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andfollowthesun · 3 years

Text

come kiss me silver and gold

written for @dinlukenation's dinluke week day 5! prompt was: knight/prince au.

read it on ao3 if u prefer (5.6k words)

Din is covered in sand and krayt dragon blood and other various fluids when he enters the inn, the smell of it lingering in his nostrils and causing everybody to go silent once he steps past the doorway. Peli swoops the kid from his arms as soon as she sees him, and it’s testament to how exhausted he is that he doesn’t protest. She points up the stairs, “Bath’s waiting for you,” and he only spares her a grateful nod before trudging to his room. He’d usually be a little more considerate— beskar is heavy, and Peli’s stairs don’t deserve his clomping footsteps— but given the day he’d just had, he figures he’s allowed to take a few liberties.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t notice Luke the first time, because when he comes back downstairs, body and armour clean, vision still tinged the same red fog as the colour of the dragon’s stomach lining, he finds it hard to notice anything but Luke.

He’s sitting in the corner, alone, and that’s the first thing— nobody ever came to Peli’s alone, or if you did there’d be someone trying to swindle you or sell you something within the first five minutes. But he’s just sitting there on his own, a berth of at least four or five seats between him and any other patrons.

The other thing is that he’s so still. Head bent over some papers on the table in front of him, empty plate pushed to the side. Hands steepled in front of his nose, only one hand gloved, brow furrowed. For all appearances, he held himself with the calmness of a man who knew he had all the time in the world and knew exactly what he was going to do with it all.

Din tears his eyes away when Peli sets Grogu down on the seat next to him, along with two covered bowls of stew. He reaches to gather Grogu in his right arm while balancing the bowls in his left, to take up to this rooms to eat, but Grogu rips the covering off one of the bowls and in the blink of an eye is wrist deep in food, half of it already smeared over his mouth. Din stares at him, the grainy feeling in his brain meaning it’s a good few seconds before he computes the fact that apparently, he’s so tired even the kid has faster reflexes than him right now. He’s acutely aware of the way his stomach is cramping with hunger, but he knows getting Grogu to stop eating for the five minutes it will take to move them to their rooms will be more effort than it’s worth.

Peli’s smiling at him, a half-crooked, reluctant twist of her mouth, and Din tilts his head in thanks for watching Grogu as he cleaned up. She nods in return before heading back to the kitchen, and Din settles in to wait for Grogu to finish his dinner. He runs a gentle hand over his head, before letting him grab hold of his thumb and chew on his glove. It’s clean. Mostly.

His thoughts are interrupted when the chair across from him scrapes out with a loud screech, and he looks up to see the dark figure from the corner now sitting at his table.

“Hello.”

Din is suddenly glad that his signature response to people introducing themselves unexpectedly to him is to stare them down in silence, because currently, behind his visor, he’s gawping. The man in front of him, for lack of a better word, is bright, even more so now that he’s right there instead of in the corner. Din feels like he can’t look at him directly, needs to steal glances through his lashes instead, like a bloody schoolgirl. But at the same time, he can’t look away.

“My name is Luke.”

And the last sign that Din has completely lost his mind and is going delirious with exhaustion— and perhaps also that he’s getting old if he’s so easily soft for shiny, pretty boys— is that he answers, before his brain has really caught up to his mouth, “Din.” Not with continued stony silence, not even Mando. His actual name.

“Din.” A smile spreads across Luke’s face. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Din is thankfully saved from answering when Grogu pulls on his glove a little too hard, overbalancing to tip forward and flip the remainder of his dinner over on the table. Din clucks his tongue, and leans forward to clean up the spill.

“Be careful, kid.” he chides, and he’s in the middle of claiming Grogu’s bedtime as his graceful exit from the conversation when Luke holds up his ungloved hand.

“Let me,” he says, and with a wave of his hand, flicks the tissues across the table to clean up the mess, and then sends them flying neatly into the bin across the room.

“What,” Din says, “the fuck.”

That seems to cow Luke a little, or, at least his smile turns sheepish. “Sorry,” he says, even though he doesn’t seem very sorry at all. In fact, now that Din has been staring at him for a couple of minutes and can decipher some of the twitches of his brow, the jut of his jaw, he seems, of all things, a little smug.

Din refuses to think about how the neat motion of Luke’s hand— something he was clearly practiced in, confident, precise— showed the delicate bones in his wrist, which only made him look more fragile, and Din especially refuses to think about how his mouth had watered with the sudden desire to lick over the joint. He has no interest in competing with some wizard in a weird ego game, no matter how attractive he is, so he gathers Grogu more firmly in his arms and makes to stand, but before he can pick up the other bowl that contains his own dinner, Luke speaks again.

“Wait!”

And there’s something in his voice that makes Din pause; a note that wasn’t there before. It’s not quite a cry for help— Din can already tell Luke is too proud for that— but it’s close. That brightness that had first caught his eye before is more apparent than ever, and Luke looks at Din with pleading eyes that rivals Grogu’s.

God, how is he even prettier like this? He curses himself for being weak, and sits back down.

“Sorry.” Luke repeats. His posture as slumped a little, and the bravado from before is all but gone. It’s like he was trying to be someone else before and now he’s exhausted from the effort. “I’m not very good at this.”

Din tilts his head questioningly.

“Making friends, I mean.” Luke elaborates.

Din has to stop himself from snorting. The last friend he made was Cara, about ten years ago. He didn’t need to make friends. He had the kid. He knew enough people.

Luke takes Din’s silence as an answer, and changes the subject. “What brings you to Naboo?”

This, at least, Din knew how to respond to. “Business.”

Luke’s face goes cheeky. Din knows his answer sounds suspicious on a good day, and he knows that Luke knows that. What he doesn’t know is why Luke’s face now looks like a foundling’s on Life Day, momentarily flooring Din with this new, relaxed, open expression. He’s still holding himself incredibly still, but not like before where he was tensed like he was trying to prove something, or even before that in the corner, when he seemed to be propping himself upright with the sheer force of that stillness. Din finds that he likes this version of Luke best so far, bottom lip full with smiling, one dimple sitting on the corner of his mouth, and despite himself, Din finds himself leaning forward.

“What brings you to Peli’s?” he asks, trying to level the playing field. It didn’t seem fair that Luke already had such an effect on Din, when he was still just sitting there, regarding Din slowly, deliberately.

“What,” Luke spreads his hands. His tone is affronted, but the cheeky smile is still on his face. “A man can’t come get a drink?”

“To Peli’s?” Din doesn’t keep the incredulousness out of his voice, and he only lowers his voice as an afterthought. No need to get on Peli’s bad side, but if Luke wants to be secretive, that’s his own business. Din knows what it’s like to hold everything you know tightly to your chest. It would hardly be right for him, of all people, to judge.

“If I’m being honest,” Luke says, after the silence between them has stretched out to the wrong side of awkward, “I came over because I noticed you watching me.”

“I was watching you too.” he adds, when Din doesn’t reply immediately. Din feels his face go bright red under his helmet, and he watches, transfixed as Luke’s tongue darts out briefly to wet his lower lip.

“Why?” he asks, when he remembers how to talk.

Luke gives Din an appreciative once over. “You’re not bad to look at.”

It’s such a line that Din is embarrassed it only makes him hotter. He thinks it’s something to do with how Luke has shifted, bodily, the long line of his legs now sprawled out in his seat like he’s on a chaise lounge, not a creaky chair in a dingy bar. But it’s not just that; Luke has shifted in other ways too, and Din can’t quite put his finger in it, but there’s a hungry look in his eyes that wasn’t there a minute ago, even though that must have been the very reason Luke made his way over to his table. The brightness has dimmed, not like the spluttering out of a torch, but like coals at the bottom of a fire.

The thing is, Din doesn’t do this— doesn’t indulge. The right thing to do, the safe thing, would be to turn Luke down, gently, but firmly, take Grogu back to his room, go to sleep, and head back to Nevarro tomorrow morning.

“It’s my last night as a free man,” Luke says, watching him with those bright, bright eyes of his. His smile is so sad that Din forgets to ask him to elaborate. He wants to wipe away the downturned tick of Luke’s mouth, forget about the dragon, about how the kid nearly died, again.

Luke must sense Din’s resolve caving, because he says, brightening, “So, what do you say you humour someone on his last night of freedom?”

“Who?” he says, pretending to look around, and Luke laughs, the last thing Din can coherently remember is the feeling of his ungloved fingers wrapping around the sliver of exposed skin between Din’s glove and vambrace.

+++++

Din wakes up alone.

Not that he was expecting anything else, but there’s a brief moment while he’s still swimming out of sleep, curled in the warm patch of sunlight that’s filtering through the window, where he can pretend the phantom heat next to him is Luke’s body, bare and soft.

When they’d stumbled up to Din’s rented room last night, Luke’s breathy laugh fogging up Din’s visor as he clumsily bounced his cheek against the beskar in his effort to get closer, closer, Luke’s clever fingers had snuck to the back of Din’s neck, looping to pull him in. And even though there was no indication he meant to pull off Din’s helmet, Din had still flinched, and then marvelled in shock at the way Luke had immediately softened, pulled back, the way he’d been able to read the minute twitches of his body him so accurately already.

“Not the helmet,” he’d said, his voice already a rasp even though they both were still fully clothed.

“Okay.” Luke had said.

And afterwards, when they were both sweaty and Din still trying to catch his breath from quite frankly the most incredible sex he’d ever had in his life, Luke had gotten up without a word, BUT before Din even had the chance to miss him, was back in bed, curled up against Din’s side, finishing off the knot for the blindfold he’d looped around his eyes.

“If you want to take your helmet off to sleep,” he’d murmured softly, and then he was out like a light, leaving Din to stare at him open mouthed for the second time in three hours, stunned at the trust, the thoughtfulness, the vulnerable nape of Luke’s neck.

He’s taken his helmet off with shaking hands many, many times before, but it’s the first time it feels like a benediction.

He shakes himself out of the memory, and rises out of bed. By the time he comes down the stairs, collected Grogu from Peli who is looking at him with a shit-eating grin on her face, he’s mostly convinced himself that he can live the rest of his life with Luke as a sudden flash of brightness, the scent-memory of his skin on the sheets.

Grogu chatters to Din as they walk from Peli’s towards the Naboo Spaceport, and Din makes all the appropriate noises like he can understand him, and he’s concentrating on making sure his kid is getting the enrichment he needs (he read somewhere once it was very important for early development)so he doesn’t notice the unease in the Spaceport at first. But he rounds the corner to where the Razor Crest is parked, and suddenly it’s all there; the prickling silence and sideways glances from the deck crew. Din’s gaze zeroes in on his ship, and he sees the men waiting outside the Razor Crest.

Not just men. Royal guards, from the look of their deep blue uniforms.

They must be on the lookout, because as soon as he steps foot into the hangar, one shouts, “You there!” He keeps walking forward calmly, but he shifts his grip on Grogu to one hand and rests his other hand on his blaster.

“You own this ship?” one of the guards asks once he’s within earshot. The leader, Din notes, spying the gold crescent badge on his breast.

Din nods warily. He’s half-distracted thinking how he can get Grogu to safety, if it all goes to shit, and the other half is mentally running through all of the ship’s modifications. He’s pretty sure most of the illegal ones are well hidden enough that a preliminary search wouldn’t have found them.

“You fought the dragon yesterday?”

Din blinks, jolted out of his train of thought, and he’s too startled to lie. “Yes?” he says, and then tenses, widening his stance a little. Everybody had seemed ecstatic when he’d come back into town yesterday, but the last thing he needed was lord furious about their precious pet dragon being injured.

“Come with us.” The head guard’s tone brooks no argument, and he doesn’t offer any further explanation either. And although his last fifteen years of bounty hunting are all screaming at Din to run, take the kid and get the fuck out of Naboo, there’s a fuzzy feeling behind his sternum tugging at him to follow that makes him feel lighter than a second ago. It’s the same way he’d felt when he’d seen Luke in the inn last night, what had allowed Luke to reach across the table and touch him. And inexplicably, it feels well worn, familiar to him.

Din goes with them.

+++++

Din forces them to circle the speeder back around to Peli’s first, where he drops off the kid. She takes Grogu with a fearful look in her eyes, and Din doesn’t look at her as he presses his forehead against Grogu’s. He doesn’t think about how it could be the last time he sees the kid.

The palace at Theed is built on the edge of a cliff, with domes of gleaming jade and its marble walls carved out straight out of the rockface itself. When they pull over the drawbridge, Din can hear the thundering of the waterfalls, and through the windows of the entrance hall, see the vast ocean to one side, glittering in the sun, and the green of the rolling plans on the other side. It was beautiful and grand and a little bit terrifying all at once, if Din was the kind of person who was impressed by that sort of thing.

The entire trip to the palace is silent, and it’s only when they’re deep into the castle, in front of a huge set of doors, that the head guard finally addresses Din, “Wait here,” before he disappears through the doors.

Din’s stuck outside the grand oak doors, and he briefly contemplates prying one of the rubies or emeralds that are encrusted into the door’s bolts with his vibroknife— could probably get good money for them— and how he could distract the remaining guards around him for long enough to do it, when the doors open.

It’s a throne room, that much is clear, with a lush red carpet and floor to ceiling windows along one wall. The sun is at midday height now, and its glare casts long beams of light across the floor, leaning towards the people at the other end of the room. Din steps through the door and takes stock of his new surroundings.

Seated on the throne is the Queen, who Din understands is well beloved and not at all prone to torturing bounty hunters, although her dark expression says otherwise. To her left, sitting on another throne—although perhaps lounging would be a better word— is a man who Din presumes is the king. In another world, Din knows, instinctively, that he would have been a dangerous opponent, long scar over one eye, shaggy brown hair, gaze sharp and keen. The same can be said for the young woman standing behind him, the same gaze, the same tight line of her lips.

To the Queen’s right stands an old man, white beard and white hair, drab brown robes. He looks mildly more welcoming, mouth drawn up into a soft smile, although Din can still read tension in the way he’s holding himself. And next to him…

Din stops as he looks at the last figure on the left of the room, the warm brightness, the shocked curve of a mouth dropping open. Din remembers how that mouth had opened against his throat last night, hot and wet, and how he’d wanted Luke so badly he thought he might combust.

Luke, who is in front of him right now, in golden robes, nothing at all like the black ensemble he wore last night. Luke, who had disappeared from Din’s bed this morning without a goodbye.

Din feels the mark he knows Luke bit into the inside of his thigh last night throb for a second, and he has to force himself to keep walking down the room. He stops in front of the thrones, and stares at them for a minute, the five of them assembled in front of him.

“What is your name, Sir Knight?” Queen Naberrie’s voice is kind, but there’s a steel underneath. She doesn’t look very happy to be sitting there. Belatedly, Din realises that he probably should have knelt.

Din shakes his head. It’s hard for him to keep his eyes off Luke. “I’m not a knight.”

Her face doesn’t lighten up, exactly, but a flash of humour does cross her face before it’s as gone as quickly as it came. “How would you like to be addressed then, good sir?”

Din tries to hide his grimace at good sir, although he doesn’t think he’s very successful. “Just Mando is fine.”

“Mando,” Queen Naberrie says, all trace of laughter gone from her expression. Beside her, the king’s face goes completely blank, like he’s trying to hide a sudden tide of emotions, and the young woman standing behind him scowls, glaring daggers at Din.

“Naboo is in your debt,” the Queen continues. “We thank you for your act of service.” It sounds like the words are being forced out of her mouth as she says it.

“What?”

The Queen’s expression becomes a little more impatient, a little more sour. Din feels like he’s running out of time, even though he didn’t realise there was any sort of rush to begin with. But before she can say anything, the old man standing the right of her chair speaks.

“You’re Mandalorian?”

“Yes.” Din’s hand goes to his blaster. The old man may not look like much, but Din knew better than to be fooled by appearances. However, the movement doesn’t make him any more tense. If anything, it seems to amuse the old man.

“Padmé,” he says, turning to the Queen. “I don’t believe he knows.”

She turns to her other side to look at her husband, and a silent conversation passes between the three of them, quirking of eyebrows and slight flicks of the wrist. Din takes the moment to drink in the sight of Luke, who is still staring straight back at him, eyes glittering. Din wants to rip those golden robes off him where they’re buttoned up to his neck, run his hands down his sides to the spot where he learnt last night Luke is ticklish, hear the breathy giggle before he firms his touch.

Except Luke is standing next to the throne, not beside him under the coarse sheets, and the distance between them may as well be one of Naboo’s oceans.

“Mando,” the Queen says, drawing his attention back to her. “You slew the krayt dragon yesterday, and in doing so, saved the lives of hundreds of my people. As is tradition, a dragon-slayer is given the princess’ hand in marriage.” She gestures to the girl standing behind the king.

Din’s thoughts come to a screeching halt, and his eyes flicker to follow the direction of the Queen’s finger. The princess’ arms are still crossed across her chest, and her expression looks more thunderous by the second.

“However,” the Queen continues, and Din has to stop himself from sagging in relief, there’s a however, thank god, “my daughter is already promised to another. As such, I hope you will be similarly pleased with my son’s hand in marriage.”

The relief vanishes, and Din turns sharply to look at Luke, who’s practically glowing looking back at him. But all Din feels is the swirling sickness in his stomach.

“No.” He can barely hear himself over the rush in his ears.

The Queen raises her eyebrows. “No?”

“I don’t want to marry him.”

“It is tradition.” The Queen is cool and calm, and it makes Din want to hit something.

“I don’t want him!”

His voice bounces off the ceiling. There’s a shocked beat of silence, and when Din dares to look at Luke, all the light has left his eyes. And no sooner than Din has caught a glimpse of his face, as if Luke senses his gaze— which he probably has— he turns sharply on his heel and leaves the room.

Queen Naberrie watches him, with an eye far too keen for Din’s own liking. “I think,” she says slowly. “We might give these two some time alone.” She stands in a rustle of silk, and gestures for her husband to do the same. She puts a firm hand on her daughter’s shoulders and the old man does the same for the king, guiding them out of the room through a separate door despite the king and the princess’ loud protests.

It leaves Din alone in the throne room, the silence suddenly suffocating around him. The heat from the sun streaming in through the windows no longer feels like an extension of the palace and the view, but instead sharp, urgent, stifling.

Din takes a deep breath, and follows the door Luke had exited through.

It opens out to a courtyard behind the throne room. The air is muggy outside, and he feels the dampness of sweat on his underclothes, the awkwardness of the quiet clank of every movement with the bulk of his armour. Luke is standing on the far side, by a balcony which overlooks the sea.

Din comes to a stop in the middle of the courtyard, unsure if he’s allowed any closer. Last night, he would have said that closing the distance between himself and Luke would have solved any problem between them, healed any miscommunication. He can still feel the phantom strength of Luke’s fingers laced between his, like a balm to his aching joints. Now, he’s not sure if his presence is welcome at all.

“You really didn’t know?” Luke asks without turning around.

Din’s tongue feels clumsy in his mouth. “No.” he says. He knows he’s not saying exactly what he means, because he does, very much, want Luke. Just not like this; passed around like a political jockey, one of the means the end is supposed to justify. Luke, being given to Din like a playing piece in chess, bound to him out of duty, instead of choice. The mere thought of it makes the sickness in Din’s stomach swell up again.

He doesn’t know how to say any of that, so instead, he says, “I wasn’t trying to slay a dragon. I was just protecting my foundling.”

Luke gives a startled laugh. “Of course. Thousands of knights actually trying to kill it and you go and do it by accident.”

They lapse into silence. Din wants to get that awful, stricken look off Luke’s face, but the only way he can think of doing so would be to touch him, just once, softly; cross this vast distance between them and dig until he sees the brightness he’d held to his bones last night. It kills Din to think he’s lost the privilege to comfort him.

“I thought,” Luke says, his voice quiet, wobbly. He takes a breath and starts again. “They told me yesterday that someone had slain the dragon, and I was to be married the next day. Figures the only dragon-slayer I’d actually want wouldn’t want me back.”

He sounds so self-deprecating, none of the soft sureness Din had seen last night, the cocky slant of his smile when he’d wrapped his mouth around Din’s dick. Din wants it back so acutely that he can feel it like a physical weight in his ribs. He doesn’t like this version of Luke, buttoned up tight, uncertain of Din, of the trembling thing they had cradled between them last night.

But he can’t seem to have Luke back without anchoring him to Din, so instead, he says, “I didn’t kill the dragon.”

Luke turns around. “What?”

“I wounded it, sure. But it was definitely still alive when I last saw it.”

“So you don’t have to marry me.” he adds, when Luke just stares at him, but even as he says it, it feels like there’s a crack in his heart. This morning, he’d shored up the hole Luke had left with the curled imprint of his body on the sheets, and now it’s all coming back, all the golden light pouring out with how much Din wants, simply, to hold Luke. Not to marry, not even to fuck. Just to hold.

Luke does not seem to be on the same page as him. “So the dragon is still out there?”

Din nods confusedly, and Luke closes his eyes. “Fuck.” he says.

“It’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Din says. “You don’t have to marry me.”

“It’s still out there.” Luke repeats, but it’s not a question this time, and Din looks away from how he’s wringing his hands, tries not to think about how much he wants to press his palm against Luke’s heated skin, in hopes it would loosen some of this sudden nervous energy. Looking away allows his brain to clear up a little, not completely occupied with the sight and thought and smell of Luke Luke Luke, and it hits him all at once.

“It’s still out there. Oh, god. It’s still out there in the village.” Din feels the dread pool in his heart. “I’m gonna have to go kill it, aren’t I.”

“Well, you don’t have to…” Luke trails off.

Din’s already striding back into the throne room, before a thought occurs to him, and he turns around and goes back to Luke, taking one of his hands in both of his. “If I manage to kill this thing for good this time,” he says, “you still don’t have to marry me. I don’t care about tradition.”

Luke has gone completely still under his touch, just like he was when Din first saw him in the corner of Peli’s, his grip strong under Din’s palm. His eyes are very wide, very blue, and even though Din knows he can’t see through the visor of his helmet, he feels like Luke is reading his face with inexplicable familiarity. With the calmness of a man who knew he had all the time in the world and knew exactly what he was going to do with it all.

Din drops Luke’s hand like he’s been burnt and steps away, his face going red with the realisation of his rash decision in the heat of emotion.

Luke says, “I’m coming with you.”

And Din forgets all about how completely inappropriate it was for him to touch Luke like that. “What? No.” Not Luke, with his soft body and curves and bony wrists, who had a family in the palace who clearly cared about him. Who Din still wanted to hold afterwards, and they couldn’t do that if Luke was dead via krayt dragon.

“I can handle myself.” And there he is, Din can see the man last night who wiped the table clean with his freaky powers just because he could; because, Din realises now, he was trying to impress Din, not compete with him. The relief at seeing the glimmer of that Luke again, without the frills and false airs, almost swallows him.

“Also,” Luke adds, as Din is still marvelling at the appearance of Luke’s brash edges again, “if someone else went and killed it now, I would have to marry them. I’m just making sure you make good on your word.”

Din feels a flare of anger in his chest, way too intense for having only known Luke two days, and resolutely puts it out of his mind, deciding to think about it later. But then Luke grabs his hand again, tugging him through the throne room and back to the speeder, and Din can’t find it within him to pull away. He’s only thinking about peeling his glove off so they can be skin to skin, and then peeling that disgustingly impractical gold ensemble off Luke’s body. He’s thinking about how Luke didn’t pull away when he’d grabbed his hand before, and now, how he’d reached first, and the lucent gleam in his eyes when he’d looked at him, like suddenly everything had become clear to him.

And as the speeder roars to life, the warm shape of Luke in the passenger seat next to him, Din dares to hope, could it really be that easy?

+++++

The dragon, surprisingly, is easy enough to kill, what with Din having mostly incapacitated it the previous day when he’d ripped himself out of its stomach. He’s honestly surprised that the dragon had survived long enough to drag itself back to its lair. Luke almost looks disappointed, and if Din’s learnt anything as a bounty hunter, it’s that as soon as you complain about it being quiet is when things start going to shit.

They’re climbing back into the speeder when the first blaster shots are heard, some very angry knights— real knights— who apparently were banking on slaying a dragon and marrying a princess to get fat and rich off the royal coffers, pissed off that someone else had gotten there first.

Din groans, rolling out the crick in his shoulder— after the dragon (twice!), knights seem as relevant as gnats— but he draws his spear all the same. After all, it didn’t matter what killed you, a blaster shot is just as deadly as krayt dragon teeth.

And then Luke, out of fucking nowhere pulls out a green sword and dispatches them all without breaking sweat. Din hasn’t even moved from his spot next to the speeder. A ball of heat shoots straight through his stomach, and he feels his mouth go dry.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you could handle yourself.”

Luke smiles serenely, sheathing his sword. Din feels his stillness again, this time, the kind that indicates imminent danger. Unfortunately, because Din has now accepted that he just functions on a lower brain capacity around Luke, he can feel certain parts of himself getting very interested in a dangerous version of Luke.

“Luke.” he manages. He knows he has to say this before anything else happens. “You don’t have to marry me.”

And Luke just looks at him, patient, light, none of the heavy sadness Din had seen in the courtyard, and Din knows, then and there, that Luke understands, that he’s been able to read in between the lines: everything Din hasn’t allowed himself to want from fear of losing it. Luke knows what he wants to say— what he’s going to say. He just has to say it.

“But would you like to come with me?” he gets out.

Luke’s face breaks open into a smile, like rain after drought, and this time, Din doesn’t stop himself from crossing the distance between them, pulling Luke flush against him by the waist. Luke knocks his forehead against Din’s helmet, and Din closes his eyes, basking in the sheer sense of rightness.

“I’ve always wanted to see the galaxy.” Luke says after a long minute, and Din laughs, feeling so light he could fly.

#dinluke week day 5 #dinluke #star wars #luke skywalker #din djarin #the mandalorian #jo writes fic #i wrote this in under 24 hours lol so #cut me some slack won't ya #dinluke week #dinluke week 2021

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discotechque · 3 years

Text

when you resist me, I cease to exist

pairing: kung lao/gn! reader word count: 1.2k rating: G

kung lao throughout this entire thing: if an attractive person pins me to a tree and tries to assassinate me; do not prosecute! that is on me! they caught me slipping!

Kung Lao swears he can hear birds exchanging whispers at night, he tells Liu Kang so who only responds by chastising his sleep ethic. He knows they are there, chirping and tweeting about a brand new day to come and what his mentor might have in store for them. They know secrets he can not translate, only whistles that lure them to his windowsill.

The night sounds like blue jays mocking his form and red robins always near just to remind him of his shortcomings. He is not the chosen one. He is Kung Lao, the one with the long braid and razor-rimmed hat who spends his nights lonely. And even the animals seem to know that as they chitter and chatter right outside the bruised large oak that sits only a few feet away.

Maybe the night does not know of secrets but gossip, pointless rumors that are stretched across the canvas of his man. Twisting and turning to fit any narrative he needs. He is blessed with a chance, a gift so few are afforded yet his mind is impatient. Trying to rush to the end of a story that's barely been told.

He can never be sure if it's even just begun. Sighing as he sees the dawn approaching, Raiden will predictably ask them to arrive just before a light blue haze has settled above the Earth. He was asks for things ( greedy and reckless, he sometimes thinks but that's rude ).

So instead, he gets out of bed, finding his feet and lightly gasping as they touch the floor. The world is still dark but he can stumble through it without disturbance. Shuffling sounding throughout the halls as his bare feet wander through.

Pinks stain the sky as the horizon clears and he sighs as the slight. A slight shiver running down his back as he craves for the warm sun to brush over his skin. No one appears to be around for miles ( only the whisper of birds ) and he is content with that. No one to bother hi or to put him in his place, simply a body that travels with a name he rarely says.

He stops short of the tree outside his window, a thick trunk that's able to hide him away from the small world he's disposed to. The chippering hasn't grown louder, in fact, it's been secluded into it's own sphere. One he is only able to witness once he's allowed to rest. There's meaning there—at least, he assumes there is—but he is not granted time to mull over the prospect.

Slammed into the bark, groaning as his hair is tugged on and his neck is left vulnerable. He should be frustrated, easily calling his friend or mentor but that would be too easy. There's already a blade tracing patterns against his flesh; ready for the slightest sign of struggle.

The tree shakes in resistance to the sudden movement but all it does is let a few birds loose from their hold on those insufferable calloused branches. The bark already digs into his skin but he’s far more focused on surviving than possible injuries.

The masked figure hums, inspecting him as their weapon taps against his neck. "I thought you would be far more .... resilient."

The taunt nearly makes him laugh but he's reminded one quick slash would rid him of his larynx amongst other things. Confrontation makes him nervously chuckle and assault people with dim-witted jokes. He is not suited to deal with an assassination attempt.

"In the life of monk, one is always in tune with his surroundings."

"Is that so? Are you so in tune that you just allowed me to pin you and have a knife against your throat?" the weapon is propped against his chin, the dull part gliding across it. There's a playful tone to their words, almost as if this is entertainment.

Entertainment, he can deal with that at most and a shaky smirk crosses his features. He's sure that anybody can see the strain on his expression but there's still enough leeway to speak.

"Maybe I was merely distracted by your beauty."

"You haven’t even seen the rest of my face. A cheesy line only a monk could make." They sigh and release their hold on him. Kung Lao still resting against the trunk as the figure begins to pace. "Looks like you aren't my mark."

They start to mumble, brows furrowing and he can assume their lips are puckered in thought. He should speak, but on the other hand, they are also an assassin. One part of him is grateful he was not murdered, another part of him feels like he is insane that any side of him feels gratitude at all.

Still, he stands up from the tree ( more birds crying out as they are forced from their home ) and speaks.

"Any chance I could help your search? This hat holds knowledge beyond your years," he forgot he was even wearing the stupid thing, the braid that trails behind him is more noticeable than anything.

A huff leaves their mouth and they turn to face him. "Alright, I'll bite. A man around your age, loose hair tied by some stupid thing I can't remember and looks like he could punch a hole through me."

He knows very well who that is, an person he's seen a thousand times over that their image is seared right onto one of the lobes of his brain. It'd be downright insulting to not recognize when one is describing Liu Kang. "Oh, you mean my wonderful, darling best friend?"

"Fuck, I knew this was more than it's worth.” They let out a frustrated groan, sheathing their blade within a leather pouch ( he worries when there's a longing to see the weapon again and maybe wishing he was still pressed against that tree ). He shouldn't be thinking this way, he was close to becoming another decapitated corpse.

“Well, when you see him, tell him he has a bounty. His head costs a pretty penny.” He doesn't understand why he just won't turn them in but this interaction intrigues him.

Being mistaken as the handsome Chosen One of Earthrealm? It's ridiculous, a scenario that would only play out in some fantasy.

“It’ll boost his ego, I wouldn’t bother.”

“Oh, as if you’re the humblest savant I’ve encountered.”

“Maybe I’ve earned it,”

“Hope you prove it to me next time—” and he says his name during the silence ( the one he rarely uses ) and blinks as they repeat it themselves. “Kung Lao, couldn’t have expected a prettier name than that.”

Their shallow flattery feels like heaven, blessed to have even witness this occasion. There's a wrench at his chest as he watches them turn, readily leaving the temple as if they never truly existed.

“And yours?” He can't help but ask.

But he knows there's a smirk toying at their mouth, even if it is covered, and shakes their head. “Ah, there’s still a bounty I’m after. Money is your only real competition.”

They slink behind an eroded pillar ( he does not bother checking for them ) and he hopes this lives on through the whisper of birds.

#lol two idiots flirting with each other #what if i was hired to kill your best friend but almost murdered u and we left off with unresolved tension?#the first half of this shit is a basically a character study but i don't want to hear no one complaining #i am bringing kung lao content bc the mortal kombat movie did him dirty #mortal kombat x reader #kung lao x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat preferences #mortal kombat 2021 #mortal kombat 11 #julianscribbles #gender nuetral reader

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constant-eggs · 3 years

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Here are my thoughts on why Kara waited so long to tell Lena that she is Supergirl.

I know that Kara gave a lot of reasons, I think they were all partially true. The most consistent reason seems well intentioned enough: that it was to protect Lena. This is the one Lena ends up ultimately accepting. But it doesn’t make a lot of sense. Between Lena’s own enemies trying to assassinate her, and working closely with Alex and Kara as Supergirl, Lena’s life is always in jeopardy. In the 100th episode, the writers try to double down on this narrative when Kara tells Lena right at the beginning, she is kidnapped, Kara reveals her identity, and then all of the Superfriends die. Again, this doesn’t make much sense. It’s a possibility, of course, that Lena would be kidnapped and ransomed, but James and Winn were similarly vulnerable knowing Kara’s secret early on. They were lower profile than Lena, yes but they were also at that point less adept at saving themselves, as Lena has shown herself to be time and again. Also, had Lena known about Supergirl sooner, she could have gotten a watch to call Kara. If anything, Lena was in more jeapardy not knowing Kara’s identity.

Kara’s other go-to reason was that Lena was distrustful of Supergirl and loved Kara, so Kara wanted to separate the two parts of herself so she wouldn’t lose her best friend. This reason feels a little closer to the mark. As Supergirl, Kara was suspicious of Lena making Kryptonite and inadvertently put her in the villainous Luthor role. When I initially watched the scenes it gave me whiplash how Kara spoke to Lena as Supergirl vs. out of the suit. This isn’t a condemnation of Kara, it seems like in order to stay sane that Kara has had to compartmentalize her “Supergirl ego” and her “Kara” one. But then of course once Kara tells Lena who she is, Lena is baffled by the cognitive dissonance of Supergirl and Kara actually being the same person. She understandably fears that Kara saw her as a villain all along.

The other two major reasons Kara gives (one in a deleted scene) were that Kara felt like she had waited too long, and that a part of Kara didn’t actually trust Lena afterall. Because the scene was cut, who knows if the latter reason had any truth. But the first reason fits well enough with the others. Kara had good intentions, but time past, lies snowballed, and now the pair were three years into their friendship. And Kara knew that Lena had trust issues and didn’t do well with being lied to.

Here’s what I see as the missing part of the puzzle. Kara didn’t tell Lena because having one person, the person aside from her sister she is closest to, know her as just Kara, was Kara’s tie to feeling normal. Lena the-genius- CEO-Luthor knew Kara as a non-super journalist and loved her anyway. Most importantly though, Lena not knowing Kara had powers meant that Kara got to be vulnerable sometimes...sometimes Lena got to save her. And sure, Kara usually didn’t need it, and logistically would have to figure out how to save them without revealing herself (like landing the plane or stopping Mercy during her faceoff with Lena.) But still, Lena would put herself in front of Kara, take the reigns, and show Kara that she didn’t have to figure out everything on her own. This extends to not just during battles, but emotionally. Lena helped Kara up after altercations when Kara was used to propping herself up. Lena would specifically ask about Kara’s relationships with her other friends, family, and romantic partners, and in those moments Lena would treat those problems with the same level of importance as Lena taking down Lex or whatever issue of the week. Kara though has a tendency to put her “human” issues on the backburner to focus on the greater good, but Lena was her outlet to maintain that humanity, and have those other parts of her life remain priorities.

It’s too bad, because Lena also extended a lot of that grace and kindness to Kara as Supergirl. When one of Lillian’s henchman was harming Kara with Kryptonite, Lena still physically tried to intervene and said not to hurt her. Lena also knew that Supergirl wasn’t harming people (during the Red Daughter saga). There were plenty of other instances that Lena showed compassion for Supergirl and the only way I can wrap my brain around Kara not internalizing them are because Kara needed to maintain that separation for herself. I know that as an audience we’re past all of this now, but it still doesn’t sit entirely right with me that ultimately Lena apologized several times (when Kara made it seem like as long as Lena came back and apologized she would forgive her) but then she wasn’t initially forgiven. It also rubbed me the wrong way that Kara threatened to treat Lena “just like any other villain” even though Kara knew that being perceived as such was Lena’s greatest fear. It unsettled me further that Lena had to perform again and again in the finale. Between helping to save William, building Kara the suit, saving Kara’s life from Andrea etc. Kara said she kept waiting for Lena to let her down. But by that, did she mean by betraying Kara or by not performing and succeeding? (And again I think unintentionally Kara would feel that way.) But that line of dialogue really did leave me wondering because Lena could have done her best, and failed, and still very much have been sorry, but then would Kara have not forgiven her? I’d like to hope she would have, because if not, Lena performing for Kara’s validation isn’t too different than her trying to earn love from Lex and Lillian.

These are just ramblings. I know that Kara did her best, hell she tried to alter the timeline for Lena to salvage their relationship. But ultimately, Kara saw that because those instances failed that the takeaway was that she needed to play tough cop with Lena (and pretty much absolved herself of her own actions in the process) instead of holding onto the nuance of the situation. One of them didn’t have to be entirely right or wrong, and it would have been nice if after Lena’s third apology, if Kara would have said again, and “I’m sorry too. You deserved the truth. I know you’re not a monster.” Or hugged her. Or something. Oh well.

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #forgiveness #trauma

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seancekitsch · 4 years

Text

Not to Touch the Earth

this is a prize buck 60s au bc apparently i have enough of an ego to do that

a/n & warnings: drug reference, alcohol references, no actual drug use, unprotected car sex, use of the word daddy, roughness, cult references, orgy references, none of this is even really prize buck canon but yknow we might reference it again for a joke or two. natural born killers reference also

“Some outlaws lived by the side of a lake, The minister's daughter's in love with the snake,” you sing off-key, “Who lives in a well by the side of the road. Wake up, girl, we're almost home!”

You punctuate the end of the verse by howling out the window of the car Klaus was using, voice being swallowed by the vastness of the desert somewhere on the California border. Klaus drove on, trying to remember a time you were ever so free. He figures you probably never were, not sober. Not totally sober like now. He was coming up on three years, you on six months, and your new favorite activity was definitely driving out into the desert, as far away from Klaus’ little commune as possible, and singing songs that hadn’t been written yet and making love on the hood of the car.

He smiles and looks over, watching you lean out the window bathing in the golden light of the sunset and he has to laugh. Is this just what you’re like in a car? Or is it being trapped in time? Your first week here was spent avoiding any of his followers and trying to talk to any of the universities in San Francisco, but none of them would hire you because a woman with a doctorate was rare, and a woman professor was even rarer. You stopped trying in a fit of anger after one Dean told you your ‘husband was a brave man for letting his wife become so educated’ before offering to let you take undergraduate classes because those were available to women. So you leaned into helping him hide from the Destiny’s Children. You had fun here. You kept each other in check being sober, you kept him from being fully engulfed by the group. You like these people, you just wish they didn’t like you and your partner as much as they do.

But the times when the two of were alone were the best. Klaus loves stealing you away from everyone else and being with you like everything’s normal. He loves you without that twinge of shame you carry with you, without waking up with tears in your eyes and thinking he doesn’t notice them. You haven’t been crying or hiding it from him here. He loves how goofy you allow yourself to be, the way you don’t constantly hold yourself back. He remembers back on earlier today, when you’d snuck up on him, licked a warm stripe up his neck and sang lyrics from the very song you were piecing together now.

“Not to touch the earth, not to see the sun. Nothin left to do but run run run,” you sang, only for him.

“Let’s run.”

You didn’t have to say it again before he grabbed the nearest set of car keys and was swatting at your ass to get you running for the passenger seat.

You feel the hot air hit your skin, and you can’t remember a time you ever actually liked the heat. You never saw yourself even visiting southern California. Sobriety re-introduced you to the cold and you greeted her like an old lover. You like your cold weather and your jackets and your fucking hospital socks you stole and stockpiled which now didn’t even exist yet. But the heat here is different, it kisses your skin like Klaus does, frees you from the burdens of life fifty years from now. The heat is a reminder that you don’t have the struggles you had in 2019, the heat is a reminder you can rebuild yourself. You know you have to go back sometime, but you can be selfish and steal this time with Klaus. You squint into the setting sun on the horizon as Klaus makes the car slow, then veers off the empty road to park. You’d have the moonlight soon, which meant a cool night with him all to yourself. By the time he walks around to your side of the car, he blocks the sun from your view. Your eyes trail up from the tip of that ugly fucking beard he’s got growing to his chin, to his lips. To the grin he sports, saves only for you.

“Do you think they’ve noticed were gone?”

“Why? Worried Keechie’s missing you?” you snort.

“Keechie? God, no. Although, if I were you I’d be worried Madelaine was getting lonely by now”

Right; you were hiding from two members of the group in particular. Your first mistake was attempting to have sex in a five mile radius of the group. You didn’t think they’d barge into your tent and invite themselves to join. But, ever the adventurous and slightly stupid, you let them. Now two of the four that had been in your tent were trying to recreate that moment again.

“Not my fault I rocked her world. You jealous, Prophet?”

“At first I was impressed because I didn’t think you swung that way, but yes. Yes, terribly.”

That probably isn’t much of a joke. Sobriety put a bit of a possessive streak in Klaus, and as much free love is flowing, it’s nice to feel like you belong to someone. And you do belong to Klaus, in every way that counts for your group. But you’d struck a chord with Madelaine and now shes creeping in on Klaus’ territory.

He pulls you from the car, literally pulls you. His hands come up under your armpits and lift you from the car window until you can step out of the window and he can lower you down onto the sand. He’s thankful you’ve learned your lesson, as the last time he did this you weren’t wearing sandals and burned your feet on the sand. He bends to let you pluck the wide brimmed hat from his head and you place it on your own as you walk to the trunk to fetch a blanket. Dancing, not walking, he thinks. The way you walk is more like dancing. You grab a blanket from the trunk and sit with him until it’s night. You sit with him close enough to reach out and touch, but not quite. It’s in these moments you can close your eyes and perfectly imagine you’re back in your studio apartment with him, listening to the record player and sharing a bottle of wine, thinking about the narrowly avoided apocalypse and job hunting for him. You can close your eyes and imagine inviting his siblings over to crowd your apartment for a loud night of laughing and take out. You can hold his hand and think of how very little space the two of you took up in the world and how comforting it felt.

When you open your eyes again it’s dark. Perfect. Night falls quickly in the desert. You look over to see Klaus equally as relaxed, an easy smile painted across his entire face, worry lines smoothed away. He hums a song you recognize.

“Sweet Jane? Don’t you think that’s a little too ‘Mickey and Mallory’ for us?”

He hums a little more of the song before he answers.

“I was just thinking if we mixed blood in a wedding ceremony our paramours would leave us alone,” there’s a hint of something dark in his eyes, “Now get on the hood.”

It’s the way that he says it, low and commanding, that has you jumping up onto the hood of the car and eagerly arranging yourself in a provocative pose, legs splayed and leaning on your arms to arch you back a little, just to entice him even more. That’s all part of the dance, and here more often than not he leads. He commands and positions you the way he likes it and rewards you in kind. He actually looks a bit like a god figure or a superhero the way he saunters over to you in the dark and crawls above you onto the hood, sandal clad feet standing on the grill so he has more leverage for what he has in mind.

“Now, are you ready for Daddy?

You have to snort at that.

“Daddy? If anyone is daddy here, it’s me babe.”

He grips your bare thigh, just above the knee, then gives it a little warning slap. Not hard, just a little more than nothing.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to call yourself anything besides what I feel like calling you, doctor.”

Any retort to that comment, which honestly stung a little, died on your tongue when a low growl rumbles from his throat and his mouth connects with your stomach, biting at the cloth of your tank top and the skin underneath. You sink back down and stare at the stars, whimpering as you count them and let Klaus tease you as he undresses you.

“If you were the prophet I’d be entirely devoted to you,” He says as he pulls your shorts down your legs, “I’d follow you everywhere on Earth, I’d do anything you asked of me.”

“Don’t you already?” you laugh.

“I do,” He confirms, “I do, I do, I do” and punctuates each confirmation with a little nip at the inside of your thigh, the same one he had just slapped. The beard he’s been growing out tickles as you squirm beneath him, hands roaming wherever they wish but solidly keeping you in place for him. You think back on your first time with him, how eager he’d been to please, how you wanted to be the one he was pleasing, and how far you’ve come together. His fingers wind up your legs like ivy on an old statue and pause at your underwear, teasing for a moment, before pulling them aside and plunging two fingers into you without warning. He pushes them in deep, scissoring them back and forth a few times, before pulling them back out, and sucking on them. If youre moaning or swearing, you can't hear yourself. An appetizer for a meal, or something equivalent of that. The delighted moan that echoes from his throat as he sucks you from his fingers sends shivers up your spine, just knowing you're in for it tonight. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you dare to meet his eyes, dark and stormy and hungry for you. He has the audacity to give you his sweetest smile before roughly pulling your underwear away from your body and heavily dropping his knee onto the car hood between your own. Klaus himself is intoxicating, you didn't need drugs or alcohol. It was so easy for him to consume your senses, and you readily let him. And when he finally kisses you, you feel yourself drowning. Really truly drowning. The way his tongue dances with your own has you gripping his shoulders like hes the last rock before a riptide pulling you under. It takes him no time at all to have his pants undone and to be grinding himself against you. This is a glimpse of the Klaus of 2019, humping against you and gently whimpering into your mouth. But quickly he pushes that away, lining himself up with you and pulling back enough from you to make eye contact as he pushes himself in. No matter how domineering he could be in the 60s with you, he makes sure to look at you, to ask those silent questions, to be granted that permission to absolutely take over you.With each thrust, long and deep, punctuated with a needy moan, he takes a little more of you. And you willingly let him, and give him everything you can.

You probably look like one of those renaissance paintings beneath him, as he thrusts hard deep fast, your breasts exposed like all of the biblical women, your body contorted on the hood of the car, like one of those angels in anguish. There was no where for your hands to find purchase that wasn't Klaus, so your hands are far up behind you, palms planted on the windshield to give yourself a better angle, a better arch of your back for Klaus to wrap his arms firmly around you, so he could kiss your chest and the long expanse of your neck and shoulders while he kept his pace. He held you as lose as possible, and for a moment you imagine its just him. You as nothing but an extension of himself, your pleasure mixing and becoming his pleasure. When he got like this, its easy to imagine he didn't have many lovers before you that cared that much about his pleasure. Sure they probably thought he was a fun time, as that was a given, but it was probably rare someone actually cared about what he was feeling. You like that he trusts you with this bare part of himself. No, you love it. You love-

A deep moan from his mouth vibrates against your breast, you feel it even more than you hear it, and it brings you back to where you are now, looking down at his lust filled, indulgent expression.

“Keep looking at me,” he commands, thrusting harder, making you almost squeak at the angel he's hitting, “It's just me, and you, and the coyotes out here.”

Your hands scramble to grab the sides of his face as you start to move your hips to fuck back against his thrusts, eager to come for him while hes watching you. Any attempt to praise him comes out as stuttered moans and fragments of words, but there's a devilish smile on his face that tells you he knows what you're saying.

He pulls one arm from under you, slams it on the car below right next to your head, and goes in for the kill. He’s merciless in his thrusts as he kisses and nips at your fingers that he can reach. He doesnt guide you but throws you off of the cliff into bliss, a scream parting from your lips as he refuses to slow his pace. This more dominant and possessive Klaus is wild, selfish in a beautiful way. In his face you see indulgence personified, a modern Dionysus filling each urge that swept over you. He doesn't let you calm down, doesn't let you catch your breath, overstimulating you as he reaches his own release. He comes equally as loudly, with a shout of your name and “oh, lover” tumbling from his lips before he stills, and captures your lips on his own.

He kisses you slowly, like he's drinking in the taste of you, holding you still, feeling your skin melt with his. It's hard to tell where he ends and you begin, but you prefer it this way. It's just the two of you in the desert. Just the two of you in the world. There's plenty of water in the canteen, and after a drink to refresh you, you'll be tearing at each other again, just far enough off the road no one will see you. He pulls out of you with a hiss, like it hurts him not to be inside of you, and you find yourself involuntarily whining at the loss as well. He grabs the canteen and returns to put it to your lips, then his own, then you sit and talk of nothing and everything sweet, needlessly flirting and preening each others egos with loving words until you're both ready to go again. It continues like this until one of you falls asleep on the other. This is the desert routine.

When you wake around sunrise, covered in bruises and hickies, hair tangled to hell, you're wrapped in the blanket from the trunk, Klaus’ shirt used as your pillow. He’s just outside, naked as you are, greeting the dawn. Something about his posture beckons you to join him, and on shaking legs you pull yourself from the car, unsteadily stepping until you can wrap your arms around his torso, his hand reaching to grab for you and sliding over your shoulders. He repositions you so you stand together, not with you behind him. The way its supposed to be. And then the moment the sun is fully in the sky, he greets it by crowing like a rooster. Loudly, freely. You join in.

#klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves smut #klaus hargreeves fanfic #klaus hargreeves imagine #prize buck series #my work

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wehatejulietsimms · 3 years

Note

This is an Andy appreciation post. I’m re-listening to Vale because I never understood.

It has much religious imagery but it’s *more* than just metaphors and analogies.

There’s four views I’ve understood finally and maybe more.

I will not mention anything of the specifics BVB is fighting against in Vale because like I said, this is an appreciation post and I don’t want to bring up anything negative if I don’t have to make it a point. If anyone wants me to go further into detail about what specifically I feel is going on, just ask because my gut has a keen reception on lyrics and events.

1. Religious persecution:

To the unawakened folks or the ones that progressively sin in the name of God.

Fighting for equality that when people fuck up, it isn’t the death of them. Just the death of an ego and awakening into more self compassion.

2. Talking to the fans that are blind to reality

In many songs off Vale, Andy always talks about preaching but never fully being heard from the blind and innocent. He’s tired but he will keep fighting, because he wants to make an active change to the community in a way he can but feels weak from time to time, yet never giving up!

3. Ashley

When Ashley was outed publicly, Andy never dedicated this song to him but posted the lyrics with no caption when Ashley was accused. Throw the first stone.

4. Letter to self: acknowledging this is an end of a cycle. Hint: the album name and song lyrics.

Our Destiny is a big one. It’s not just a rock love song about trying to save a destiny between two people. It’s saving himself from his past “sins” “fuckups” and saying it’s not too late to heal, which it’s never too hate to heal from the past and present. I feel like it’s “hey, I’m going into ashes now but I’ve already made amends with it and I’ll rise again and again, however many times to make it out of mental and physical surroundings.” Also, I feel it was referencing Lost it All in a way, like most of his songs do, it’s a personal and universal message that there’s so much shit in life that will knock you down and you will heal while STILL in a hurt place physically. I really want to appreciate that truth that there’s a lot of healing that still is in the midst of pain. (Props to you, Andy!) Many abusive childhoods can resonate with that as well as being stuck in relationships/friendships/or generational curses including being in debt. (Which he mentions a lot in interviews) I really do think he’s gonna get out because he’s such a wise soul and nobody gives him props to healing, and being such a mature wise man even though he’s not at his highest or best surroundings. I mean, I don’t know any other artist that’s stuck in a shitty situation and is still uplifting, real, and promotes healing and is why so many BVB army members resonate with the music. I really respect he says that people heal themselves but use his music as a resonating device to heal, when fans say he’s their hero.

Andy has overcome addictions, has had to protect his life many times, has written so much uplifting and real wisdom from a dark place of mind or just straight up otherworldly strength and vulnerability which I admire because it’s beautiful and real, doesn’t have many real helpful people around him, has been a real role model by himself, is overcoming shame and lies & generation healing, he’s really had to rely on himself and I’m glad his band members really allow him to take control of the lyrics in such an inspiring way. Even though he’s still dealing and people pleasing to toxic people, remember everyone, people in abusive relationships and are trapped have to people please in order to stay alive and not get harmed. Many don’t understand that if they’ve never been abused. (They don’t need to understand, Andy! We see it) His perseverance is real and don’t judge someone for figuring out their own life. Sometimes freedom comes from music (even though other aspects from the rock industry contradict it). Let’s be supportive of him right now because he’s branching off into a new territory and finding out what’s working for him SAFELY. Yes, I don’t agree with a lot of what he says in his insecure moments in interviews and lies in his book/irl (gotta remember that’s a trauma brain response), but his music speaks in a way that is truth and can help many people going through many things and express it in a healthy way. Also I believe many fans live in denial about his life due to the fact that they’re probably living through it in their own life and can’t recognize it in another person. Or are attracted to his light but want nothing to do to help keep it alive as in tearing him down (secret haters). Anyways, I respect him for going above and beyond and it’s really admirable because like I said, nobody in the industry has ever done what he’s done. His art is perseverance.

5. He’s been a role model for so many hurting depressed people because they resonate to his own story and his strength is a catalyst for their own strength. I dislike when people deny he’s been living in trauma and overcoming many times in his life because that’s literally what this band was formed into. There’s so much evidence in his life and in the music. He’s had to take on a role for his (hurt & healing) self and it naturally became a safe space for BVB army to interact and resonate with him. He had to do that at 18/19 and if anyone’s that age or older, you know that age is just a child. I applaud him for being that young while having no parental guidance while creating something beautiful and divine, though I do empathize for his inner child. His albums are art that are darker, not evil, and is a place where children/adults who were rejected in any form can find solace in their own mind and thus can create healing. His words are moving and you have to applaud the man for keeping it together when people of all directions were hating on his every move and it was because he has such a big heart and everyone around him wants to keep him caged out of selfishness. Even when he had meltdowns and (not saying he couldn’t also be toxic because everyone has the capacity but meltdowns get overlooked because it’s a spur of the moment thing and everyone thinks it’s a violent episode but it’s due to triggers as well as not being sober) still wanted to show up for everyone including his own self that he knows himself to be, that he didn’t want to let rot. He’s really a strong soul and it gets overlooked a lot. He’s striving for betterment of himself for more than a decade (with so much persecution even in his own circle) and people keep wishing that “I hope he gets out” and this is how he’s helping himself for the moment until he can actually get out. So again, props to him. We’re proud of you, Andy! Keep going! We believe in you. Keep taking care of your overall being. Thanks for believing in us all of these years. Some of us even made it out of the hurt place we were in and are living happy, peaceful, healthy lives after trauma.

^^i literally almost teared up reading this. this is exactly why i love him so much (& what made me fall in love with him/BVB in the first place) you said everything perfectly. i honestly wish i could pin posts on here bc i really want this to be the first thing people read on the blog. as much as people think this blog is supposed to be outright hateful, (although it contradicts the name of the blog lol) i can assure you it's not. as fans we want the best for our favorite artists and when an artist has helped/continued to help you and so many other people out of dark places it sucks to see that through that they can't help themselves. i just want the best for him and for him to be 100% happy again. that's the purpose of this blog.

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ldyinblckmsk · 4 years

Text

Always the extra, never the lead

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x F! Reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 1.8k

A/N: Hey, guys! I'm back hoho serving another angst (if you squint your eyes lol). I hope I broke your heart or makes you feel pain or sad coz that's what i wanna make you feel while you read my piece oftrash. This plot is plaguing mah mind. Also, the title sucks lolololol I can't think of anything argh!

Enjoy :)

It's funny how people cheer themselves up by thinking that they are the main character of their own story. You think that it's ridiculous to give themselves a fake hope while the fact that the cycle of their story doesn't change anything. They'll never be the protagonist, no matter how hard they try to be one.

That's why you gave up, right. You settle yourself to be just a bystander, watching the main roles act their piece under the big spotlight. Watching the man you love entranced by the stare of the girl he likes. See, it's not you. Because, after all, as much as you wanted to be the Cinderella or Snow White or any other damnsel in distress, he'll never be the prince that will save you. You're just an extra.

Confess your profounding love to him? You already thought of it and considering the consequences of it, you're just a coward who didn't want to jeopardize the only relationship you had with him. You're fine with being his bestfriend. At least, you still have an excuse to be at his house until midnight just hanging out with him. You can still wear his hoodies and imagine yourself acting like how the other girls did to their significant other.

That until she came.

He spent less time hanging out with you. He rarely even talks to you and ask if you're still breathing. As if all of a sudden, every memories you spent with him vanished like a bubble when the narrator introduced his leading lady. Of course, you were jealous, infuriating to be honest, she stole your man, the ash blond you were crushing since you laid your eyes on him. And the thing that makes you go insane is the fact that you don't have the right to be angry because he's not yours to claim.

The only thing you can do is sit there and let yourself drown in pain. Pretend that you're fine with the set-up and act normal. You didn't want to mess up the play, don't you?

Fine, my ass. You're not a masochist.

They're still not together, that means she's not his either. They're still at the phase of knowing each other, so you still have a chance to confess. There's no way that they already fall in love with each other that fast.

Here you are in his room, laying comfortably on the silky sheets of his bed, staring at the ceiling. You just invite yourself to his house.

"Hey, dumbass! Are you even listening to me?" His voice snapped you out of trance. "I'm sorry. I got a lil dizzy for a sec. What were you saying?"

"You alright?" The hint of concern on his voice didn't go unnoticed by you and you just cherish this moment that way you always do. Your breath hitched when you felt his cold hands touch your forehead, his other hand on his comparing your temperature. The small act of friendship makes your blood rush to your cheeks.

"Geez. I'm fine, Katsu." You rolled your eyes at him, swatting his hand away. As much as you want to prolong the skinship, you didn't want to make yourself become a flustered mess. "Now, what were you saying?" You propped your head with both hands under your chin, as you roll on his bed now laying flat on your stomach.

"I said are you coming with me this Friday night. We're just going to eat." You looked at him suspiciously. For a second, your heart triumphs.

"Wow, you already want to see me again."

"Tch. Just say yes or no, idiot." You chuckled at his scowling face. "Just admit that you missed me, grumpy-chan."

"You're a pain in the ass."

And just like that, you didn't have any decent to sleep as you were so excited for Friday to roll. Whatever plan he has, you can't help but to think that it's like he's asking you to go out with him. Ignoring the second line he said, you let yourself dive in fantasy.

It's Thursday and you're still conflicted on what to wear, you asked for help of your friends. Surprisingly, they agreed to help you right away without raising their brows and questioning you about the date with the 'mystery man'. 'Cause they already know who it was, just from how eager you look.

Your love for the blond isn't news to them. Being classmates and friends for almost three years, they already knew how your mind works though they didn't really know how frenzy and complicated the wires in it. They just know the surface of it.

"How about this?" Mina showed you the haltered red dress that ends just above your knee. You decided on it right away which makes your friend shakes their head at your eagerness. After that, you're just casually having fun, giving you advices and tips on your so-called date from their experience.

You saw him leaning on his car, permanent scowl on his face while constantly checking his phone. You eyed him from your position, awe struck at the ravishing aura he oozes. The white dress shirt he's wearing highlights the muscle he workrd so hard to built. He looks so clean and sinful at the same time.

"There you are, grumpy-chan!" You walked towards him slowly, smacking his back as your usual greeting, smile plastered on your face with the hint of blush spreading on your cheeks. You watched him stunned for a while, eyes roaming to your body. "About fucking time. Let's go."

You were surprised when he opened the door for you but you just shake it off. He's gentle, seems like his careful with his actions.

He glanced at you for a moment before he went inside the car. His heart went wild when he saw you. He thought you looked prettier when you dressed up. He always saw you wearing baggy shirts that's why when you showed up with that tight dress he malfunctioned for a bit. You looked bold and sexy like a predator hunting its prey, quite opposite from the girl he's pining. He shakes the thoughts of you away as he began to drive.

Akiya is full of sunshine and rainbows. She's sweet and looks vulnerable like an antique dishware that needs to be taken care of. And he has the great urge to protect the quirkless girl. Funny, how he was so bully to Deku being quirkless and here he was falling for one.

He was so upset to himself when he found out his stupid affection to the girl. Their constant talking amd bubbly personality made it possible to like her. But everytime he's with her, his mind straying away to your well-being. He knew that you have feelings for him but he didn't dig further because you're not vocal about it. With how much his time was spent with you, he cared deeply for you. He loves you, of course, but it isn't like kind of love you felt for him.

After sorting out those endless thoughts, still, his adoration for Akira weighs more than your friendship.

That's why he's inviting you to dinner with him.

The anxiety is bubbling up inside you. The look on his face screams that there's something going on inside his head that you're not ready to unravel. Call it instinct but something feels odd. The ambience around you doesn't suit your guts. You're beyond happy that you're having a good time with him but there's this unsettling feeling that's eating your inside.

Is this what you think it is?

He's the one who initiates the conversation first, sensing the awkwardness in your table. Feeling blue, you just answered him with nods and short words. Clenching your jaw as you forced yourself to smile naturally. It's not really that difficult for you to do it since you are good at hiding.

The dinner was served and you just sat there, eating in silence. You don't dare move your eyes from your plate. You felt him checking on you for the nth time of the night then followed by a sigh.

You fucking knew it. Your grip on the knife was tight while slicing the tender beef. You're silently praying that you'll have the control of your emotions tonight. The night is still young but the 'date' is nearing to end.

"Y/n, just don't fucking talk and listen to me." His hand combing his spiky hair in frustration. He didn't know how to break it to you without hurting you. "What's with the serious talk, grumpy-chan? It's not like you, ya know." You laughed.

"I said I'll do the talking, idiot." You rolled your eyes at his remark."You know Akiya, right?"

"Uh, yeah, she's the girl you like, right." You said with an obvious tone in your voice, smiling, almost seemed like you're teasing him. Almost. Because the bitterness you felt left a hint on your voice.

Silence. No one dared to speak. Not because of your last statement. It seems like gods are not in the mood to heed your prayer as you desperately trying to stop the tears that you didn't know were already falling. You inhaled deeply, calming yourself down, slowly accepting your defeat.

You were the one that breaks the eerie silence. "So, you two are already together. Is that what were you going to say to me? Or is there anything el–"

Oh.

Realization strucks your chords. How can you be so fucking simpleton? A small laugh leaves your mouth while nodding your head crazily, new batch of tears forming in your eyes. He only watched you, confused.

"Oh my god! You fucking knew it. Am I right?"

"Y/n–"

"I'm a clown. You knew I love you yet–" You laughed again. People gaze at your direction, feeling pity at your state. You are mess right now.

"What the fuck are you talking about? Yes, I knew it. I knew your feelings but your my bestfriend for fuck's sake!" He raised his voice, bloodshot eyes lingering at your form.

As if like you flipped your switch, you looked at him with blank eyes, no emotions were found as you speak to him. "Is it entertaining? Is it funny to watch me make a fool of myself? Am I stroking your ego when I looked at you with fucking heart eyes huh, Bakugou? Tell me."

"That's why I'm fucking talking to you right now. I want you to stop it. I need you to stop loving me because I can't reciprocate it...I love Akiya."

"I know! Don't fucking rub it on my face. I know it. I already knew it! Okay? And yet here I am still fucking hoping that there's still a chance." You're desperately trying to sound fine, wishing for your voice not to crack. "I-I'm still fucking praying that I wish it's me. Why the hell it can't be me? Why, Katsuki?"

No, you're not going to break down in front of him. That will be last tears you'll shed. You shut your eyes tightly, regaining your control over your emotions. You didn't spare a glance at him, looking yourself at your mirror while retouching your make-up. You grabbed your phone, texting Mina to pick you up while you're talk to him. "Just so you know, I'm not going to cut ties with you. If that's what you're worried about. I'm still your friend, dropping the 'best'."

You looked up at him, eyes meeting his for the last time. You saw his pained expression, clenching his jaw when he looked away. You get up, ready to leave. "Another thing, next time when you reject someone don't do it over a fancy dinner. That just gives them a false hope and that's fucking painful." You chuckled.

Bitter smile plastered on your face, you prepare yourself for the conclusion of the story. Walking to his side, you bend to him while placing a kiss on his cheek, whispering your final dialogue as the side character.

"Goodbye, grumpy-chan."

#bnha x reader #bnha angst #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugō #bnha bakugo katsuki

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americas-golden-boy · 3 years

Text

Worth a Thousand Words

Summary: “Steve Rogers, every inch of his All-American glory, was looking at her expectantly with that same boyishly mischievous expression he had been sporting the few times she had seen him up close. One that really shouldn't blend in so easily with the rest of him but was an integral part of his persona, or at least that's what she gathered from the bits and pieces of conversations about him she'd been subjected to hearing.

Because that was definitely what she had predicted, and definitely made all the sense in the world.”

AKA Steve has never talked to the woman that sits in the front row of his lecture hall twice a week but that doesn't stop his hopeless crush on her.

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader

Word Count: 3,159

She was being watched.

She had absolutely no proof other than a gut feeling, but the sensation of eyes on the back of her head burnt with a heat strong enough to brand her, and more than once has the skin of her arms and neck prickled uncomfortably with goosebumps despite the surprisingly warm temperatures of late fall.

It made her feel silly, really, and more than a little narcissistic, to think that anyone would invest time in watching her. She couldn't even write it off as the uncomfortable leering that she had been victim to on a couple of occasions she had gone off-campus at night.

No, it was the most random of times, in the most obscure places, always busy enough that she could never pin down the source of her unusual company when she chanced a scan of the area.

It's a Thursday night, and after three weeks of enduring this cat and mouse game she's found herself in, she's strongly considering just going up to each person in the common room when she feels the sensation tickle its way down the nape of her neck again.

Before she got the chance to weigh all the pros and cons of embarrassing herself, the cat made itself known.

By sitting right across from her at the otherwise empty table.

Startled by the sudden presence in front of her, her eyes snap up from the book they'd been buried in, the hand which had been steadily dictating her notes pausing in the middle of a line as her train of thought came to an abrupt stop.

Sharing her space with unfamiliar company was not an uncommon occurrence, for her or any of the other people that frequented the open areas available to students at all hours of the day, but at a little past 11 P.M., there were few people spread out across the expansive room, and even fewer reasons for anyone to sit so close.

She found herself being thankful for carpeted floors as the man abruptly pulled the chair out, spinning it around and sliding forward to straddle it all in one movement, draping his crossed arms across the back with a practiced sort of elegance that did not quite match the situation or his size.

And his size was, frankly, quite hard to ignore.

Her immediate response was to be intimidated by the broad expanse of solid chest and wide shoulders that made the chair look almost uncomfortably small as the muscles in his arms strained under the stretched material of his shirt—really it was almost another layer of skin, as tight as it was—to prop his chin on an open palm.

But then she met his eyes and—

Oh, she thought dumbly.

Steve Rogers, every inch of his All-American glory, was looking at her expectantly with that same boyishly mischievous expression he had been sporting the few times she had seen him up close. One that really shouldn't blend in so easily with the rest of him but was an integral part of his persona, or at least that's what she gathered from the bits and pieces of conversations about him she'd been subjected to hearing.

Because that was definitely what she had predicted, and definitely made all the sense in the world.

With the way his smirk grew, she had a feeling he was perfectly aware of the confusion he was causing in her.

Perfectly justified confusion, she reminds herself before any misplaced guilt can creep up on her, considering they had never interacted properly.

In fact, as she tried racking her brain for any reason he would have for approaching her, she came up with exactly zero. Possibly one, if he was trying to bum notes off of her for the lecture they shared two days a week.

Not that he made a habit of doing that to people, as far as she knew anyway, but she wouldn't put it past him to use his charm and prestige for his own benefit.

As unfair as she knew it was to him, her expectations of the widely popular were subpar at best, and considering his reputation stretched far enough that even she recognized him, he certainly fit into that category.

Seemingly satisfied that he had her full attention, he reached out the hand that he had been leaning on, smirk stretching out into a full smile, laugh lines pulling on his cheeks matching the soft crinkles in the corners of his eyes.

He really is handsome. It's almost unfair.

"(Y/N), right?" He said by way of greeting, breaking the near silence of the room with ringing clarity even with the low level of his voice.

The fact that he knew who she was added a fresh layer of bewilderment to the mix, and she couldn’t even begin to sort through the possible implications of him possessing that information.

Looking between his hand and his face, she placed her pen down and took it in her own, just a moment shy of an awkward pause before nodding.

His grip on her hand was confident but gentle, shaking it once before letting her retract it back into the safety of her lap, leaning on the top of his chair with crossed arms once again.

"I'm Steve, it's nice to meet you."

Of course, she already knows that, but isn't sure if admitting it would be awkward or a boost to his ego, and since neither one really sounded like a good option, so she opted for another weak nod of acknowledgment and a half-smile.

If her lack of response was odd to him, he did a good job of hiding it, face still as open and unfaltering as the moment he sat down.

"So, I admit, this is...odd. I'm sorry for disturbing your study session, I just haven't had a good chance to talk to you before or after class and I saw you while I was cutting through on my way to my friend's dorm so..." he trailed off with a soft huff of a laugh, eyebrows faintly pinching together with the slight tilt of his head.

He wanted to talk to me? She repeated to herself. He doesn't seem angry, so I probably didn't upset him unintentionally. Not that I would have had a chance to, I don't think I've ever even sat by him before.

There was a long string of questions that she'd like to unload on him but with the way his smile was starting to falter she decided to put them both out of their misery and settle for one to start.

Flipping the notebook laid out in front of her to a blank page she wrote as quickly as she dared, aiming for both speed and legibility, knowing from experience that her nerves can reduce her handwriting to chicken scratch if she wasn't careful.

Are you the person who has been following me?

She lifted the note for him to see, watching his eyes flick across the line before his eyebrows shot towards his hairline, wide eyes meeting hers as his hands rose to wave almost frantically in front of him.

"No!" He exclaimed, the sudden volume of his voice drawing a wince from the both of them as she glanced at the only two other students in the room, who had both paused to look over at their table.

Steve's head dipped in an apologetic nod in their direction before turning his attention back to her.

"No, I wasn't following you," he started, voice much quieter but not lacking any of the conviction of his initial outburst. "I promise, I really haven't been, I just—we have a class together, and we live in the same building. The campus is only so big, so I, uh, I see you around sometimes," he rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes dropping from hers briefly in a moment of sheepishness that was a stark difference from his usual self-assured bravado.

"Honestly I didn't think you would have noticed, and I'm really sorry, but my friends, they uh—" he continued on, his words beginning to come out in a rush of air— "when I mentioned wanting to talk to you they took it upon themselves to tell me if they saw you around. Trying to help me find an opportunity I guess. I would have made them stop sooner if I had known it was making you uncomfortable," he reassured quickly, taking note of her baffled expression.

All she could do was stare, eyes flittering around his face in an attempt to find a tell that he was lying. When she found none, she was honestly relieved, not just because he didn't seem to have any malicious intent, but also because she now had confirmation that she wasn't crazy.

Now that I know I'm not just paranoid, what is it you needed to talk to me about?

She flipped the notebook around once again, watching as he hesitantly turned his attention to it, his fear of a negative reaction clear as day across his face. It was endearing, really.

"I just wanted to—actually, if you don't mind me asking first, why are you writing your responses? I feel like I need to get my own pen out, breaking the quiet all on my own."

The question wasn't an unexpected one and she was frankly surprised it had taken him as long as it did to ask. That didn't stop the uncomfortable pang in her chest that usually came with that line of questioning. While it wasn’t necessarily uncommon for her to use a pen and paper to communicate, the select group of people that wanted to converse with her had more efficient ways.

I can’t speak. Most people don't know ASL, and I thought a text-to-speech app might be too awkward if you weren’t expecting it. Sorry.

And she was, really. While she knew it wasn't her fault, she also knew how tedious a transition process it could be for someone who had never held a conversation with her before to adjust to the pacing. Some people just weren't patient enough, or it made them feel awkward.

He read the note, and then reread it, and then read it once again. He gently worried at his bottom lip, releasing it as he opened his mouth, only to shut it once again as his lips pinched together.

He seemed to finally decide on what to say, straightening his shoulders a bit and clasping his hands together.

"So, you're...mute? Is that the correct term to use?" He asked , articulating his question slowly while watching her face.

She found the corners of her lips quirking up at his concern of possibly offending her. That alone was already more than she got out of similar exchanges.

I personally don’t mind it much, but it’s normally frowned upon. Non-speaking is your best bet.

She slid over the notebook, trying to gauge his reaction for a hint of how the rest of this conversation is going to go, if he didn’t simply excuse himself to avoid a situation that he most definitely did not predict or ask for.

And then felt like she would have tipped straight over from the way he beamed at her, if not for already being securely supported in her seat.

There has to be something wrong with him, she found herself thinking.

"Okay. I’m glad I didn’t offend you, thank you for telling me. I honestly don't know much about what to do to make this easier for you—" was he pouting now?— "would yes or no questions be better? I don't want to make you write a lot if you don't want to. Or...would you like me to leave?" By the time he reaches the end of his ramble, his nerves had obviously caught up to his mouth, head dipping and jerking his thumb in the general direction of the door leading to the outdoor walkway.

If anyone else had asked her that, she would have assumed it was asked as a chance for an out, a polite way to say, "I think it would be best if I left, are you going to let me?" But with the way he prefaced it so naturally with eager attempts at maintaining and extending their time together in a way that benefits her, she couldn’t find it in herself to immediately presume the worst.

In fact, the entire situation was so absolutely bizarre and random and Steve is staring at her with this disarmingly charming expression looking like he is about five seconds away from bolting for the door, and she just can’t help it.

She laughs.

~~~~~

She’s laughing.

Or at least that’s what he’s assuming, with the way her head tips back and the warm flush across the bridge of her nose spreads to her cheeks as she smiles. They’ve been in the same lecture and dorm for months and he’s not sure if he’s ever seen her face light up quite like that.

The sounds that push their way past her lips are short and clipped, raspy in a way that suggests disuse but warm enough to be melodic despite their discordant nature.

Just as suddenly as she started, she stops. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she snaps her head back down to look at him with wide eyes before quickly checking across the room where the last students had been sitting previously, shoulders slumping with obvious relief to find the seats empty.

For a moment he truly feels ashamed, because as wary as she seemed to be about the sound, he’s already dying to hear it again.

The hand that had been resting over her mouth moved to her brows, tilting down enough to hide her eyes from his view but not the harsh scarlett that was crawling across her visible skin, from the tips of her ears to the base of her throat. If he wasn’t feeling ashamed before, he certainly is when he has to cut off the burst of curiosity that cuts across his mind wondering how far the flush could go.

Shaking his head like it will physically remove the risqué thought, he reaches one hand forward to softly tap the table near her notebook.

“You okay under there? I’m not quite sure what I said, but there’s no one else in here but you and me.”

He feels like he’s done something very wrong and he’s not even sure where to begin to backtrack as he combs over his last statement.

She thinks you’re an idiot, you probably managed to offend her.

He really, really hopes that isn’t the case though, because he’s been trying to build up the courage to talk to her properly for months and while he’s become a bit better about socializing since he got back from the army, he’s still absolutely hopeless with women, something that Bucky likes to remind him of frequently.

The second Natasha found out why her attempts at getting him to go on blind dates were being shut down so quickly, she was absolutely ruthless in her ribbing, as harmless as it may have been.

Before he can fully consider standing to leave, she’s dropping her hand to her pen, meeting his eyes with a slight pull at the corner of her lips before leaning down to write.

Waiting for her to finish writing is the most nerve-wracking thing he can remember going through in recent memory, and the soft thump of his heel against the carpet is almost as fast as his heartbeat by the time the action even registers and he forces his leg to still.

Coming to a stop almost halfway down the page, her pen rests against the paper for a beat before she hastily caps it with a firm nod and pushes the notebook onto his half of the table.

This might be the most thorough rejection I’ve ever faced, he thinks sardonically, spinning the notebook around.

Then he reads the first line, and his head shoots up to look at her. He must look a bit ridiculous, if the growing smile on her face is anything to go by.

She gestures with a wave of her hand towards the notebook and he clears his throat with an awkward chuckle as he looks back down at the paper.

I would really like it if you didn’t leave. I’m sorry for laughing, but you’re just so nice I was surprised. I would be lying if I said I didn’t already know who you are, but I just didn’t expect you to be interested. This whole situation is very random but I think that’s the first time I’ve laughed out loud in a long time. I understand if you change your mind, or if I’m overstepping, but if it’s not too forward, I think I’d like to talk to you too. Maybe when it’s not the middle of the night.

~~~~~

As soon as she slid the notebook across the table she itched to grab it back. She nipped at the tip of her thumb between her teeth to fight the urge, pulling her other arm to curl around her stomach.

What if I misunderstood what he was trying to tell me? He seemed so nice but maybe he’ll regret it now that he’s actually been around me a bit. When was the last time you even went on a date? Oh god, he’s already reading it, maybe I—

“Are you busy tomorrow?”

She’s abruptly pulled out of her spiraling doubts so fast she gets mental whiplash, and she focuses back on him as she considers if she misheard.

He’s beaming at her again, the corner of his eyes crinkling and one side pulling on his cheek just slightly higher than the other, the same boyish charm from earlier peeking its way through. He tilted his head as he leaned in towards her, and the cage holding her butterflies was absolutely demolished, sending her heart fluttering at a pace that’s almost painful.

The question finally caught up to her at his expectant look, and with a shake of her head, he let out a satisfied hum and smacks the table lightly with both hands before reaching to grab the pen, scribbling down a hasty addition to the bottom of the page before putting both items back in her space.

Pushing himself to stand, he spun the chair back into its original position before addressing her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow (Y/N),” he said with a wink, walking backwards a few steps before turning and making his way out of the doors.

She stared at his retreating back with a small smile that only grew as she peered down at his note.

Steve

XXX - XXX- XXXX

Text me when you’re free, hopefully I’ll have enough time to learn to greet you properly next time.

#steve rogers #steve #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #captain america #captain america imagine #captain america fanfiction #marvel #mcu #avengers #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #avengers imgagine #avengers fanfiction #fluff #steve rogers fluff #captain america fluff #college au

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steph-anand · 2 years

Photo

back in the summer of 2021, not long after @allegra-weaving arrived to Port Vale, Steph and Allegra fell into bed together, and only after did the siren make a discovery about the human

Allegra rarely slept after sex, but she must have dozed a bit, hand coming up to rub her eyes, stretching, and wiggling her toes. Toes. What an odd sensation. But Allegra was getting used to this whole 'legs' thing. After all, it came with its perks --- like having someone else between those legs.

Humming, Allegra rolled over, thinking for a moment to remember the other's name. Human names were so odd. Picking one for themself had been interesting. "Well hey." The brunette practically purred, though the expression was playful, cheeky.

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Sex usually woke Steph up instead of tiring her out (well, it did tire her out, but in a completely different way), and the way the night has gone has certainly given her a bunch of energy. It was a hot summer night, and while Allegra (what a strange name, Steph thought the first time they introduced themselves) has dozed off, Steph has felt energized and ready to act, so she ended up picking up her notes and pouring through them with the pillow propped up against her back.

She wasn't sure how long time passed, but when Allegra stirred and rolled over towards her, she slid down onto the bed and turned towards them. "Hello, I tuckered you out real nice, didn't I?" she said coyly, her fingers running along the other's side teasingly. "Definitely does my ego some good, not going to lie. And it was fun for sure."

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Sex? Fucking fabulous. Drinking? Also hella great. Heat? Probably the worst fucking thing about land. At least that Allegra had discovered so far. Periods were something the siren was yet to experience, and those would then hit the top of the brunette's list of worst things on land.

"Don't get too cocky." Allegra snorted. Cocky was a word that Allegra rather liked. It was probably one of their core personality traits, at least above water, where there was no territory to protect; not currently anyways. A shudder ran through the siren when fingers danced down her side. "So --- you writing a book about just how great it was?" She mused, nodding to the papers the other had pushed aside.

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Steph gave a small shrug, giving Allegra a playful smile. "It's not cocky if it's true." And then burst into a laugh when they asked if she was writing a book about how good the sex was. "Who's cocky now, huh?"

She did glance over at the papers for a moment, though. "No, it's part of my research about mermaids and sirens. Mostly local stuff, really. You can check it out, if you want to, oooor," she prolonged the word, leaning in closer and kissing Allegra's neck, "we can do round two and then you can check it out."

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

A hum when the other mentioned it wasn't cocky if it were true, Allegra shrugging at that, not willing to confirm or deny. But the smirk on the brunette's lips only grew, a wink delivered to the other woman. But then Steph spoke again, and Allegra had to swallow. She was used to being surrounded by all this ocean myth stuff, but most people in town didn't actually believe it, just played it up to milk as much money from the tourists as possible.

But --- 'research'? That sounded serious. Allegra's mind was racing, even as Steph leaned in to kiss her neck, asking if they could go another round, but there was something other than lust occupying Allegra now. "I um--- what kind of research?"

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

What kind of research? Allegra asked and Steph could practically feel the shift in the air, something she's seen countless times before. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to tell the truth about what she did, but she didn't even think to lie. She never thought to lie about these things.

She pulled back to look at Allegra, trying to gauge their reaction. "Normal kind of research. Trying to figure out as much about them as possible. Trying to find proof that they exist out there."

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

"Oh.... oh...cool." Allegra had learned that 'cool' was something people said even when things were exactly cool. Cool, of course meaning 'fine', which made sense to the cold-loving siren. "Yeah-- the normal kind of research." The brunette echoed, as if that were normal.

But she'd learned that most humans, while they enjoyed the story of mermaids and sirens and all that, they didn't actually believe it. A 'fairytale', they called it. But Steph... did she actually believe it? She seemed so serious about it. "You really-- think they're out there?" Allegra was trying not to freak out, but that would be a normal human thing to do right? If someone else really believed in merpeople. But she couldn't deny her heart was beating a little faster.

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Allegra kept repeating the word cool and then echoed her words about normal and all really Steph could understand was that it was anything but cool and anything but normal. Well, this was an abrupt end to a good night of fun.

And still, Steph being Steph, and being the optimist that maybe if people just saw her research, they'd realize the truth. So when Allegra asked if she really believed it all, she nodded. "Yeah, I really do. I know it sounds... unbelievable at first, but it's really not that absolutely impossible as it sounds. Do you want to see?" she asked and she reached over to the notebook she previously pushed away.

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

This had suddenly become a game of poker, and Allegra debated for a moment what was the best course to follow. Would the siren be able to act natural with whatever it was that Steph had in the notebook of hers. But -- maybe knowing what the other thought she knew would be helpful, to see if any of it was true or as wrong as most of the information in the mermaid museum.

Allegra shifted on the bed, not caring that they were naked, since being clothed was actually the exception for the siren. "Yeah-- pretty unbelievable." They murmured back, hoping she wasn't being to defensive. But most humans thought all this was just myth anyways, so it seemed okay.

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Allegra was hesitant, and as far as Steph was concerned, she figured they were just trying to figure out if giving her notes a look would make her seem like an idiot who believed or not. Which really, it was just looking at some stories and notes she took from them, and it's not like people would know she looked.

"Trust me, I've heard it a million times over the years, so nothing really new or anything I haven't heard before," Steph said as she handed over the notebook. It had copied pages of journal and diary entries she's found clipped in, certain passages underlined and then usually a pro con list on why that mermaid or siren mention was something she's thought was possible or probably just some drunken tale.

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

How had such a fun night turned into this? It was so disappointing. Allegra was new to human sex, and the siren was nothing if not a fast learner. But the brunette had discovered not all humans were. And she'd had quite a few disappointing encounters in her months on land. Finding someone who was worth spending another night with was rare, and Allegra had thought they'd found that in Steph... until this.

Allegra was suddenly questioning everything she did, making sure it seemed extra human, because if someone was actively looking for merpeople, then Allegra did not want to give Steph any reason to look at her. Opening the notebook, a brow raised. "A pro/con list?" Blue eyes flicked over the page.

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Steph moved away after Allegra took the notebook and reached for her top, slipping into it and her panties for now. If they were ever getting to a round two, it wouldn't take too long to take it off, but if they'd just talk, she figured this was more comfortable.

"It works for me," she gave a small shrug. "Sometimes it's nice to see what feels right and what doesn't. Like obviously I don't put the most crazy thnigs I see in there, stuff that was impossible - like, this one diary detailed a horse in the sea which was clearly some kind of drunken hallucination, so that didn't make it in there, but when it's questionable, it helps to jot down the possibilities for both sides."

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

A small pang of disappointment when Steph moved to put on some clothes, but Allegra's focus was on the notebook in front of them. It wasn't often a real believer just gave you everything that led to that belief, and as terrified as the siren was of suddenly doing something to be thought of as more than human, she wanted to have a look at the notebook, see if there was anything actually there.

"This--- these are just old stories. Like what the museum has. How do you know these people weren't crazy? You can't take this seriously. People in the olden days --- they believed in witches and burned people at the stake... these are just stories." But the horse thing? Shit. Of course Allegra knew what that was.

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

"Just because they are old stories, it doesn't mean they aren't true," Steph gave a shrug, a bit annoyed. Why was it that in some cases anonymous sources that told events in history were believed without question, but when it came to mermaids and sirens, they just suddenly found it hard to believe they were credible.

"Just because our current knowledge doesn't support the existence of witches, doesn't mean they aren't real or weren't real at that time. And the people and their diaries? If you read enough of them, you can start making a difference between them, which feel correct and which doesn't. But in general, the pro and con list is for that. To collect what feels real and what doesn't and why."

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Wow, Steph was really serious about this and Allegra chewed the inside of their cheek for a moment. Would it be suspicious to try and convince the other woman that it was all just legend? Or would pushing that too hard only end up with her listed in that notebook? Allegra never really know where the line was.

"You can't really believe this?" They handed the book back, shaking their head. The siren was just going to do with general disbelief, that seemed safest. "Going to be waiting up on Christmas Eve for Santa?" She teased. But even as they said it, Allegra felt bad. It was a bit too mean, even for her. "I just --- I don't understand." She eased.

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Allegra asked if she really believed them, as if Steph would make jokes like this if she didn't believe them. What would be the point to paint herself the town crazy for her entire life just for a joke? Then again, Allegra probably didn't know that, not yet anyway. They were new.

So she just gave a shrug. "Santa is real in a sense, just in different ways than the children picture it. It's every parent who puts the gifts under the tree for their kids and hides the cookies and milk or even dresses up for them. Sure, it's not this mystical creature who travels the world in one night, but still, in a way it's real. I am not saying that mermaids are like that, they are actually, fully real, but what I am trying to say is-- don't write them down just because you sometimes see them in cartoons, I guess? They make animations about humans too and there are myths and legends about humans too. Doesn't make us any less real."

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

"But--- there's no actual Santa." It had actually taken Allegra longer than she was going to admit to figure that out, considering his image was plastered everywhere during the Christmas period. "It's the same with this. These people, who say they saw things, it's the same as kids who swear they saw Santa - they dreamed it. Or... with these.. they saw a manatee and didn't know any better, or had been at sea so long they imagined a mystical creature to pass the time."

Steph was really set on this though, and Allegra really didn't know what to think about that. Could a human really figure out they were real? A few years ago, the siren would have said of course not, but with so many of them now on land... the risk was higher than it had ever been.

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

"You don't know that, though," Steph said, her persistance coming out, her desperate need to convince people that mermaids are real showing. "You don't know that they don't exist. The ocean is the most mysterious place on this planet, it's vast and unexplored and they could have possibly hidden from humans."

She dropped her arms into her lap after crossing her legs under her. "You don't believe me, do you?"

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

“I’m pretty sure about the Santa thing.” Allegra said instead, as if that would soften the blow, rather than saying outright that they didn’t believe any of it. Though, Allegra had no problem with blatantly lying to the other woman.

There was a pang of —something though, when the other sagged back slightly. Fuck. She looked like a kicked kitten. She gestured at the book. “Believe that? No.” A long pause. “Sorry.” Why was she apologising?

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

It wasn't anything new, and still Steph didn't go this night going this way. Not after the way it started, so it was a bit of a disappointment, to say the least. She let out a small snort, "You will be sorry when I proved it and everyone will realize they exist." She gave a small shrug and then tilted her head over at Allegra. "I am guessing the second round is firmly off the table now."

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

"I'm --- I'm sure I will be." Which was honestly more true than the other could possibly know. Because if Steph really did prove their existence, everything would be flipped on its head. Allegra had seen enough human tv to know that non-human species were often carted away to be tested on, and while she wasn't entirely sure what that meant, she knew it wasn't good. And that was if they didn't straight out die straight away, with the whole sea-foam legend.

"Ah... Kinda." Because Allegra didn't think she could keep this off her mind. Which was a shame. "For tonight, anyways." Because never say never, right? But right now, Allegra needed to talk to the other sirens, to see if they knew about this. and really... to get away from the woman who was trying to look for any clue that people were less than human.

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Steph nodded. This was what she was expecting, really. And Allegra was nice, but she had a feeling that the not now was actually never again. Not a lot of people was interested in a crazy person. Even if she was just believed to be crazy.

“That's fine, I get it. You're not the first one to react like this." It didn't affect her much with casual stuff, it was nothing new. It stung so much worse with her ex in college, this words sometimes still ringing in Steph's ears. It didn't matter, though.

She stood up from the bed, put her notes away. "I'm going to go take a shower. Take all the time you need to leave." She gave a small smile to Allegra and then headed off to the bathroom.

｡･:*:･ﾟ⎈ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Allegra was tempted to ask who else had reacted, but then that would probably look suspicious, so the siren skipped the question, figuring just getting out of there was probably the best option.

They nodded when Steph mentioned she was going to shower, disappearing into the other room. Allegra snatched up her phone then, quickly flipping through the notebook, taking photos of all the information that Steph had collected so far. It was a risk, but she could hear the water turning on, and the phone was put away before the other could see what she'd done. The siren slipped back into their clothes, before fleeing the apartment.

#allegra #allegra 001 #this was fun thank you for this #and this was followed my like half a year of awkwardness and avoidance lol

1 note · View note

missinghan · 4 years

Text

time lapse ⤖ seo changbin

❖ genre : idiots to lovers! au; long-distance relationship! au; fluff; a teeny tiny bit of angst

❖ word count : 14,9k.

❖ warning : explicit language, suggestive remarks & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you used to see Changbin as a friend until you realized that you both don’t look at each other the way best friends are supposed to.

one.

Apparently, people like you and Changbin don’t look forward to spring breaks, ever, because you simply cannot see the point in getting pumped for the very few days of sleeping in only to dread every last moment of it. Hence, he keeps FaceTiming you every day and night with such ridiculous reasons it actually boosts your ego into thinking that he misses you.

Oh, boy were you wrong.

But this time around, he seems so flustered and burnt up all of a sudden it makes a smirk creep its way up to your lips. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, you’re more than satisfied like a sadistic predator. You can really use some tea right now, it’s been a little boring without any dramas other than Hyunjin being dramatic over how his hair does not look good in any way, shape or form. That alone is enough for you to throw him off a cliff because since when does Hwang Hyunjin not look good?

Changbin asks. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, I have. You’ve been asking the same question for five minutes straight.” You roll your eyes at him in the bitchiest way possible.

He questions subconsciously, only to have you narrow your eyes at him. “You have work tomorrow, right?”

“Bin, you have my schedule. Of course, I have work tomorrow.” You utter in disbelief.

“Can’t I just make up excuses to call my favorite girl?”

You make a gagging noise. “Cut the bullshit. Spill or I’m gonna whip out the big gun.”

“And what is that?” He drawls the question in boredom.

You grin at him coyly. “I’m gonna tell Chan to poison you with cilantro.” If Changbin had to choose between eating cilantro and jumping into a tank full of sharks, he’d definitely, without a second thought, sleep with those horrifying fishes with ridiculously deadly teeth. He hates cilantro with an ignited passion, and he’s entitled to that decision for the rest of his life. He’s sworn that he would never eat cilantro as long as he lives.

“Fine,” Changbin huffs in defeat as he holds his phone up while lying on his bed. “I need your help.”

You twirl the end of your hair dreamily and acknowledge his request. “I like the sound of that, go on.”

He shoots you a dirty look, proceeding to continue. “How do I get a girl to notice my feelings for her?”

His words strike through your eardrums like a lightning bolt. You don’t know whether you should be crying or laughing because 1) Changbin was never the kind of guy to be interested in having a girlfriend, he has always kept his hands to himself since forever although girls were more than ready to throw themselves at him anytime, anywhere; 2) How come he has never talked to you about this? You feel utterly betrayed because the key to having a long-distance relationship is to not hide anything from each other. And he’s doing the exact opposite of that; 3) You don’t feel as happy for him as you’re supposed to and now you feel like a horrible friend.

“Oh-my-god.” You gasp scandalously. “I’ve been waiting for this day to come my entire life! And it’s happening right in front of my eyes! It’s actually happening! Wait… did you already pop your cherries or…” When Changbin looks like he’s about to put your head on a stick, you quickly realize that you should have just focused on the topic.

He fakes a smile. “And what day is that?”

“The day that my best friend asks for relationship advice from me! To finally embrace the most amazing thing to happen in life, called ‘love’! Duh.” You prop your head onto your hand, blowing a few strands of hair out of your face. “So, who is she?”

“I don’t know if you can really help me Y/N but she’s like 5,000 miles away from me right now—“

“What did you just say?” You cut him off unintentionally. “Is she an exchange student?”

“Yeah? You can say so..” He trails off and scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly. “We met on Tinder and got to see each other later at a uni conference, and she’s really—“

You cut him off again, this time, it’s intentional. “Run, just run away.”

“Why?” He looks at you weirdly. “You’re not making any sense right now.”

You chuckle creepily, making him shudder. He’s never seen you laughing in such a dark tone it makes him wonder if you’ve been possessed or not. “Running away is actually a smart move, my friend. Just get yourself out of the war before there’s blood on those precious fingers of yours. Exchange students get all the attention. Guys or girls, doesn’t matter. Students are gonna be attracted to them like a bunch of moths to a tiny spark of flame.”

“But, but—“

You stop him before he can even say something stupid. “No but. And a long-distance relationship too? Not ideal. You can’t just slide into her DMs and ask her to be with you when you’ve only met twice. Unless her feelings aren’t necessarily not mutual. But yeah, I doubt that.”

“Whatever, I might as well just gonna fly home and watch some shitty movies with you instead.” Changbin purses his lips in boredom and runs a hand through his hair. “Do you wanna watch that zombie movie still? Zombieland right?”

You nod eagerly because gosh, after months and months, he still remembers. It’s one of those little moments which perfectly showcases how much Changbin cares about you. Because unlike some people, he actually pays attention to what you’re saying. And you would be lying if you said that those little actions of his never made your heart tingle. They do, and it sucks.

“Damn right, I’m pumped for the sequel, never really got the chance to watch it since college has been nothing but a bitch to me.”

“You’re so fucking spoiled, Beastie.” He snickers, biting back a smile. But deep down, you can clearly see right through his facade and feel the slight disappointment in his brown eyes. Exchange student or not, if it’s what makes him happy, then you fully support his decision. And if that girl ever tries to pull a dirty move on him? You’ll hunt her down and sell her off to some random mafia organization.

You laugh wholeheartedly, trying to lighten up the mood. “Listen, if you kept scrolling through Tinder, having a girlfriend wouldn’t be a problem. Because I’m pretty sure there’s not gonna be a single person who’d not swipe right.”

Changbin cocks a brow. “Why not?”

“Because you’re hot as shit!”

He groans loudly at your bold statement, cheeks tinted pink in embarrassment. “Shut up, mom.”

You smile cheekily at him. “Love you too, honey boo.”

two.

As much as you clown Changbin for using Tinder since the day he asked you for dating advice, you can’t help but think that you’re a little bit lonely without his company. Funny enough, you also found yourself scrolling through the infamous app for hours and hours until there’s a match.

The only thing that’s funnier than Changbin asking dating advice from a total fetus than you is you talking big games to him when you haven’t even got laid, not even once. So obviously, you’re so close to pissing your pants as you dread the drive to your date, tremendously.

“Since when did you even start using dating apps?” Yeji scrunches her nose in disapproval as she starts the engine. You both just finished watching ‘Dolittle’ since Robert Downey Jr. is an icon and you’re not planning on missing out on any of his movies. But that’s not the point because the point is, your roommate knows your impulsive ass too well. Meaning, she’s not letting your day end without giving you something to feel better about it. More straight forward-ly, she’s trying to lighten up your mood before your date can piss you off.

You singsong, trying to wiggle yourself out of the situation. “Since Seo Changbin asked me about a girl.” You know Yeji just as well as how she knows you, so you’re taking advantage of her carelessness to bring up a whole new topic before she can lure you into ‘the talk’.

Yeah, ‘the talk’, sounds scary enough if you’re thinking about that one awkward, intimate conversation with parents about how babies are made. You think it’s utterly useless since society is basically corrupted and kids these days are all over the place, watching porns left and right with their parents’ IDs. So having ‘the talk’ with Yeji is definitely not gonna be full of questionable statements in replacement for making love.

As far as you know, she only forces someone into ‘the talk’ with her when they suddenly have some kind of romantic interest in another human being. Upon hearing that, she’s gonna be out and about, playing the role of God and telling people all of the do-s and don’t-s along with a detailed description of how she’s gonna drag that person to the very bottom of hell if they end up breaking their heart. You’re sure as hell that you’re not ready to talk about it with her. In other words, you’re not ready for her to torment you about some boy that you haven’t even met.

“Seo Changbin, dating someone?” Yeji fakes a gasp. “Wow, tell me all about it.”

You roll your eyes at her. “So you knew?”

You don’t know why you’re even surprised anymore since Changbin tells Hyunjin everything who’d spill everything to Ryujin for their midnight gossip session who’d complain about it to Yeji later on. The cycle is fully completed before you even know it and that does not make you feel any less of a dumbass.

“Duh,” She purses her lips before making a turn at the second intersection. “Listen, just enjoy your date, I’m not gonna tease you about it until you tell me how much of an asshole that guy is.”

You sigh in relief, drowning into your seat like a jellyfish. “Thank God.”

“But,” Your roommate drawls the word for a painfully long time. “Can we just talk about how it’s such a shame? You and Changbin would make an extremely adorable couple, right? I kid you not.”

You choke on your own saliva, coughing furiously as your hand desperately tries to roll down the window for some fresh air, mainly for the heat that’s slowly creeping up on the apples of your cheeks. “Who would ship me and my best friend together? That sounds like every drama to ever exist. Ew.” Hissing at her like a snake, you repeatedly fan your face with the hope to rid off the annoying coral tint.

Yeji narrows her eyes at you and quickly diverts her attention back on the road because no one is getting pulled over on a gorgeous Saturday night, at least not her. She still has to finish the last episodes of the drama she’s been fangirling over. “So you’re telling me that you’re not jealous when Changbin told you about other girls? You’re totally, absolutely, entirely okay with him hanging out with some random chick in Italy?”

It makes your blood boil even more when she mentions the fact that yes, Changbin is having fun with someone who’s probably ten thousand times hotter than you in Europe, but you’re more pissed off at the fact that she’s always right. Of course, you’re fucking jealous, why wouldn’t you? You can’t even fathom the sheer fury that’s running through your veins. Your heart is pumping pure exasperation into your brain. Even your liver can’t filter such anger. You hate the idea of Changbin wrapping his arms around someone other than you so much you’d rather choke yourself to death than even glance at such sight.

But, for the sake of a completely normal conversation, your mouth says otherwise. “Why not? He’s not my property, I don’t get to decide who he falls in love with. Moreover, he deserves someone he truly adores. That’s not my business for all I know.”

“Liar,” Yeji smirks. “Enjoy your date all you want, Y/N. Try not to think about Changbin too much or your date’s gonna flip.”

Again, you can’t stress enough how annoying Hwang Yeji is because somehow, in which you still don’t know how, she can read your mind in a snap of a finger. So it’s no surprise for her to know that you’ve actually thought about dating your own best friend before. It sounds so cliché you might bury yourself alive if you accidentally slip one day and confess your stupid feelings for him. As if on cue, your sixth sense is currently tingling, trying to tell you that you will definitely make a fool of yourself as you try to elaborate on how you feel about Changbin.

“What did I do to deserve you?” You sneer sarcastically at her as she parks her white Rover right in front of the restaurant.

The moment you step out of her car, Yeji tosses you a look. “Don’t you dare trip on me Lee freaking Y/N, don’t even try it.”

“I’ll have Minho pick me up, now skittle outta here.” You grimace before shutting the door close. Turning on your heels, you inhale sharply and push the glass door open to enter what seems like literal hell on Earth for the next four hours or so.

three.

Being on an actual date reminds you of why you never even use dating apps in the first place.

The only part that prevents you from running away is that Yeji has his dating profile. She knows his number, his occupation, his face, and all that jazz because meeting strangers for the very first time and already eating out with them gives you every right to be paranoid. But you’re not gonna tell him that because you still respect him just fine. And in case he’s acting all sketch, you’re gonna make sure that he’s not going home in one piece.

Okay, you can’t just blame Jaemin because he’s not an asshole. He really isn’t. He’s a nice guy in general: respectful, confident, and outgoing with a good sense of humor. Respectful? Checked. Confident? Checked. Good sense of humor? Checked. Outgoing? That’s the dealbreaker right there. You don’t hate him for it, it’s just he’s too outgoing for an introverted potato like you.

Both Jaemin and Changbin have very strong personalities like every Leo should. You’re most definitely not an astrology nerd but you’re educated enough to know that Leos are dramatic, warm-hearted, passionate and impulsive.

In which, Changbin makes you laugh your ass off until you can’t even breathe whenever he’s whining about you waking him up at 9 a.m. But you gave Jaemin nothing but a scrunch of your nose when he yelped out loud as his mashed potato was too hot. And you kindly offered to finish it for him after knowing that he can’t have dairy products. Changbin’s managed to get you out of the house every weekend even when it’s a simple trip to the mall and whereas, Jaemin makes you feel more of a voiceless being when he continuously brings up one topic after another at the literal speed of light. You almost miss how you can just throw out the most random sentence without being afraid of someone judging you.

Clearly, Jaemin isn’t the one to blame here.

Admittedly, it’s just a ‘you’ problem.

And even more admittedly, it’s just because Na Jaemin is being himself, and will always be himself. He’s never gonna be, and will never be Seo Changbin.

Seriously, what’s up with Changbin taking over your mind today?

“Do you perhaps wanna watch a movie after dinner— you’re not listening to me, aren’t you?” Jaemin stops mid-sentence when he catches your dreamy expression, for the fifth time that night.

You quickly regain your composure and sigh in defeat. “Fine, you got me. Again.” Burying your face into your palms, you’re practically choking on your own frustration because you don’t wanna lash out on him just because he’s not your type. “Ugh, I’m sorry, okay? I’ve never been on a date with a stranger before. Who’d have thought talking on texts was so much easier?”

Jaemin props his head on his hand and makes eye contact with you. He breaks it after a good five seconds to catch you off guard, slowly processing his current thoughts like a lawyer in court. “Let me guess, you’re in a long-distance relationship with someone but since they’ve been away for quite some time, you got bored. So that leads to you, drum rolls, hopping on Tinder to find a one night stand.” He closes in proudly, a triumphant smirk painted on his slightly chapped lips.

For the first time after hours of dreading Minho to come and pick you up as soon as possible, you can finally let go and have a good laugh. It’s like the pressure of being on a date is gladly lifted off your shoulders and you feel like you’re just catching up with an old friend. Which is weird because Changbin— Would it kill to stop thinking about Changbin for once in your life you dumbhead?

“And how did you know that?” You smile at Jaemin, deciding to focus on him for the rest of the night so that he doesn’t think you’re disrespecting him. A date is still a date. Even when the feelings aren’t mutual, the amount of respect should be.

He slowly takes a sip of his water and chews on his steak after. “Not to be creepy but when you went to use the restroom, a notification showed up and I saw your lock screen. He looks like one of those hot SoundCloud rappers who manages to stay anonymous under their stage name even when they’re mad famous. You know, cool people making dope music without being too problematic like ‘real’ celebrities.” Jaemin says it with such admiration you’re nearly more than ready to rant about how talented of a music prodigy your best friend is. But for the sake of him being your best friend, you’re not gonna do that. Yet.

“We’re not dating, just childhood best friends.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you with mischief laced in his brown eyes. “You have a thing for him then. Aha! I knew it! All best friends are obligated to be together, it’s an unwritten norm of the universe.” Wow, just when you thought that no one would know about your feelings for Changbin other than your annoying, chaotic friend group.

“In my defense, he was the one who set that photo as my lock screen.” You grunt under your breath but don’t even try to hide it. “I shouldn’t have swiped right.”

“Be grateful that you did.” Jaemin inhales the last bits of his dish with satisfaction, dabbing the sauce on his lips away with a napkin. “Because not only am I paying for the meal, I’d love to meet up again to hear you ramble about the boy on your phone. As friends. Also because you totally saved my lactose intolerant ass back there.” He declares loud and clear, smiling from ear to ear.

You roll your eyes at him in slight annoyance. “Fine, but I’m paying for the movie tickets.”

Jaemin extends his fist. “Frozen 2? I know a place that’s having it tonight.”

“You got it, broski.” You chuckle and bump your fist with his while your heart is yelling at you to get the fuck out of this restaurant because you’re about to suffocate yourself with the amount of painstakingly awkward silence that this place possesses.

Before you even know it, you’re walking out of the Hilton Hotel with an empty bucket of popcorn in your arms as Jaemin hogs two cups of Coke which are left with nothing but ice cubes right beside you. It’s like the whole being too cautious thing that’s been driving you insane has disintegrated into literal dust. Watching a movie with Jaemin feels like you’re babysitting your non-existent little brother while your parents are out of town and Minho is bar-hopping with the guys. Except for the fact that he gave you his hoodie because the cinema’s ACs are ridiculously cold as always. But it’s really nice, actually, because although the date didn’t turn out how you expected it to be, you did make a new friend.

That rarely happens so you’re definitely giving yourself a pat on the shoulder.

“The plot was kinda messy, don’t you think?” You ask him after tossing the bucket into a nearby trash can.

Jaemin nods in acknowledgment and swings an arm around your shoulder. “It was all over the place, I’m with you all the way. And Elsa in that purple dress too? Yikes.”

You laugh with him, continuing the conversation with much less ‘watch what you’re saying’ and more ‘actually enjoy the date for the sake of it’ until you both reach the parking lot. “Drive safe and text me when you’re home, okay?” You remind him like the bossy person that you are as you pull out your phone from your purse.

“You’re not my mom.” Jaemin snickers and his fingers hover above the tips of his keys inside his pocket. “Wait, your brother’s picking you up right?”

[9:35 p.m.]

y/n | hey, pick me up already.

meanhoe | sorry sis, I’m a bit occupied over here.

meanhoe | just call a ride home or smth.

[9:36 p.m.]

y/n | LEE MINHO ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

y/n | do you have the slightest idea about how many serial killers are lurking the streets, waiting for girls like me to fall right into their traps?

meanhoe | paranoid.

[9:37 p.m.]

meanhoe | let me tell you about how Han Jisung is taking a nap on my lap rn.

meanhoe | in graphic details.

[9:38 p.m.]

y/n | or I can just tell you about that time when mom and dad found you right next to a trash can on a sidewalk instead?

y/n | it’s a very lovely story, trust me.

[9:39 p.m.]

meanhoe | ugh, what do you want?

y/n | nothing, Jaemin will drive me home.

y/n | goodnight.

[ 9:40p.m. ]

meanhoe | hey! I can make it up to you still!

y/n | I SAID GOODNIGHT.

You toss your phone back into your purse in pure disappointment. And with a prolonged sigh, you turn to Jaemin. “He abandoned me. Can you give me a ride home?”

He cackles at the scowl on your face and gestures you towards the seat next to the shotgun window. “Hop in.”

four.

“Wow,” Minho utters. “Just wow.”

“It’s you again, why am I still surprised at this point?”

He grins coyly and slips the keys into his pocket before running a hand through his bed head. Chuckling creepily, he watches as Changbin struggles to roll both of his suitcases across the bumpy surface of your front porch. “You left my sister crying with a bucket of ice-cream for Italy. How does that feel? You know, to finally be free from her ?” Minho inquires with an amused smile. “But on a serious note, she missed you, very much so. Did you even tell her about this?

“Minho, it’s supposed to be a surprise. Do I have to translate ‘surprise’ into whatever the fuck of a language that all snakes speak in general or you’re fully capable of doing that yourself? Also, it would be so incredibly kind and generous of you to actually comprehend my messages.”

Minho chuckles and leans back against the wall comfortably. “Why not move back here then? Aren’t you done with your degree already? Or did Italy blind you with their good food and hot girls? You’re quite qualified to be my roommate.” He drags the last part. “Just wish you didn’t have to give me that attitude whenever I’m trying to start a civil conversation.”

Changbin scoffs at him, clearly uninterested. And Minho’s definition of a civil conversation just concerns him even more. “I have enough qualities to be your roommate? Let me guess, smart ?”

“Secretly a nerd.” Minho tuts.

Changbin shoots him a dirty look. “Composed?”

“I’d say indifferent and stubborn.”

“Brave enough to kill some stupid bugs for you?”

Minho rolls his eyes. “More like painstakingly reckless.”

“You literally fell off the couch when Jeongin accidentally popped a balloon with his pen.”

A smirk blooms on his lips. “But you gave him an entire lecture about why he shouldn’t bring pens to a party. Inspiring leadership.”

“Looks good in black?”

Minho looks unimpressed. “Everyone looks good in black you moron.”

“Then why the fuck are you trying to pull me into your system?!” Changbin throws his hands upwards, a frustrated groan escapes his lips. “You know I hate commitments. They give me anxiety. Especially when it involves you.” Which is not entirely correct because he did have a date last week or should have had a date last week. He was so close to pissing himself in the middle of a Michelin rated restaurant. But lucky him, his date flaked out on him before he could start having a full-on mental breakdown inside the restroom.

A glint of curiosity ignites in Minho’s orbs. “Because you absolutely have no life whatsoever.” He starts calmly, going back and forth within the limited space of the hallway. “And don’t even get me started about your love life. It’s drier than Chan’s attempt at making macarons. Oh and remind me, did your goldfish die or did you kill him? Did he die or was he killed? Or was it both?” He taunts further, and further, and further until he’s hanging on that weird borderline between having Changbin lunge at him like a predator and succeeding at luring him back to Seoul. “I’m being as kind as my mind can possibly allow without a drop of caffeine so you better take it while you’re at it.”

Changbin is fuming with nothing but pure anger. He’s so fucking close to crush every single strand of liveliness left inside of the man in front of him until he turns white like a complete ghost. But he’s also convinced that Lee Minho is just a non-biological heir of the Angel of Death. Hence, getting rid of him is impossible. “Come over here and make me.” Crossed arms, he’s determined to not leave the city without at least throwing a punch at Minho’s ridiculously perfect face.

“What are you? Four?”

Changbin stops himself from throwing hands at him and turns on his heels. “Nothing, it’s just that I don’t really like you all that much.” He makes his way to the kitchen, tossing his black beanie onto the counter.

“Yeah, me neither.”

He protests triumphantly. “See?”

“Listen up you man child,” Minho grits and walks behind him through the living room, passing by a hungover Jisung with Woojin on top of him at an unusually persistent pace that seems to cover up the bubbling anger inside his stomach. “Would you stop what you’re doing and listen to me when I’m trying to prove my own point? I’ve known you for all my life—“

Changbin interrupts him. “Those times when you passed by me at the library and made fun of me for studying for finals in high school? Doesn’t count.”

Minho hides behind a rather cheerful voice, his stare colder than an ex-wife’s fighting for custody over her child in court. “That doesn’t matter! Y/N went out with some guy last night and even let him drive her home. I don’t even know if she’s okay or not since she wouldn’t pick up for the past hour. And I just can’t let those two idiots at home alone, completely unaware of their surroundings.” Changbin shoots him a weird look and he quickly brushes it off with a click of his tongue. “Don’t ask.”

Changbin chokes on the can of Coke that he just grabbed from the fridge. “Wait, so she’s not here?”

“She moved in with Yeji months ago in an apartment near college, didn’t she tell you ?”

“No?” He raises a brow. “And what date? Who? How? Where? When?”

Changbin’s starting to panic a little bit because if you were to be on a date, you’d most likely hide in the restroom just to text him for a good five minutes. Very much like him. Anyway, he’s also quite concerned about the fact that you didn’t reply to Minho’s texts all morning. Maybe he’s overthinking again but he knows that you’ve forced yourself to be a morning person even when it’s the holiday since you don’t wanna dread bringing back your old habits when a new semester hits.

Minho drums his fingers against the dining table. “Who? Some boy called Jaemin? How? Tinder. Where? The Hilton Hotel. When? Last night until almost 10 I believe.”

Now Changbin’s fully entered panic mode because since when did you even use Tinder? And not tell him about it too? What if you’re already kidnapped and sold to some creepy people from China to make profits off your organs? “That’s it. Give me her address, I’ll go.” He drops his backpack onto the floor and grabs his coat, downing the last few drops of his beverage in a rush. As soon as Minho texts him your address, Changbin dashes straight through the front door like a tornado to the point that it has Woojin facepalming himself on Minho’s dad’s old carpet.

“My job here is done.” Minho cracks his knuckle and takes a seat at his family’s dining table, picking up his phone only to receive a text from you.

[8:23 a.m.]

y/n | ugh, is your friend gonna come over to pick up the speaker or what? it’s been fifteen minutes.

y/n | and what’s his name again? Jackson?

meanhoe | yeah, he’ll be there in ten.

meanhoe | eat a chill pill sis, I’m in charge.

five.

You frown furiously at the series of messages that you and your brother have been sending each other for the past ten minutes. Something smells fishy, and you can already see that stupid, self-indulging smirk spread across his face without him being right next to you. But then again, no one really knows what’s going on inside that disturbing glimpse of thing called ‘a brain’ inside his head because magically, and spontaneously, everything works out whenever he’s in charge.

Except when he’s in the kitchen with Jisung and Hyunjin as his cannot-be-anymore-useless vice-cooks, aka when they’re holding onto each other for dear life the moment Minho cracks an egg onto a heated pan with oil boiling along the edges.

“Ugh, Yeji! It’s supposed to be your turn to do laundry, you ass.” You repeatedly hit your roommate’s sleeping figure with a pillow, slightly mad at the fact that she’s still in bed when you’re done with grocery shopping. Sometimes you wonder if her only talent is sleeping through earthquakes. Maybe that’s how she has mad stamina and can still do a decent thirty minutes of cardio after dance practice.

Yeji mumbles nonsense into her pillow and slaps your hand away only to bury herself under the wool blanket again. It takes every strand of energy left inside of you to pull the soft fabric over her head and onto the floor it goes. “Why are you making such a fuss out of me forgetting to do laundry ?” She sits up grudgingly like a zombie digging itself up from its own grave and yawns obnoxiously.

You blink numerous times at her in disbelief. “Uhm, hello? Because I don’t have anything to wear? And also, FYI, it’s almost ten, okay? Wake up Sleeping Beauty. Prince Charming isn’t available today.”

“Shut the fuck up!” She whines loudly before dropping onto her backside in defeat. “You’ve never binge-watched any dramas before, you’d never get it.” Hey, it’s not your fault she chose to stay up until 3 a.m. for a stupid drama. You’re not gonna tolerate her complaints about migraines after having lunch, not this time.

“Besides,” She glances at you before throwing an arm over her head dramatically. “You look good in that hoodie, where did you get it?”

You grab various pieces of clothing dangling off of her bed and her beige-colored computer chair as you ponder about your life choices. “Na Jaemin, who else? God, and I need to give it back to him too.”

Yeji teases. “Are you making an excuse to meet him again?”

“We didn’t click, that’s all I have to say.” A smirk finds its way to your lips. “I basically adopted him now, so yes, I am making an excuse to meet him again because a mother has every right to see their son.”

“You’re so weird.” Your roommate purses her lips before turning her back against you.

You scroll through your feed in pure boredom. “What do you want for lunch? Wait, it’s too early for lunch, what about brunch?”

“Anything will do.” Yeji shrugs, not even trying to get out of bed when it’s already 9 a.m. So naturally, you’re already facepalming yourself at her questionable sleeping habits.

Now, where is that guy Jackson?

As if on cue, your doorbell rings. You’re dead meat to me. You roll up your sleeves and put on your ‘formally serious’ face before grabbing the tote bag right beside your couch. Without even checking who’s there through the peephole, you swing the door open in a rush. “Look, Jackson, I’m really not in the mood to invite you inside for tea nor biscuits so just take the speaker and—“

“Y/N, I don’t need a speaker, stop bombarding me with information that my brain can’t even comprehend. And who the hell is Jackson?” Changbin puts his hands up as if you’re holding him at gunpoint. And you almost laugh out loud at how he looks like he just found out Trump is president, he— wait, Changbin’s here?

You subconsciously drop the speaker without noticing that you might break something before Jackson actually gets here. “You came back?!” Your mouth automatically goes agape, utterly speechless.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” He chuckles when you crash yourself into his embrace as an attempt to hide your teary eyes. Meeting Changbin in person again feels like a rollercoaster full of mixed emotions, you have so many things to say but nothing comes out right. Maybe it’s best if you just keep your mouth shut for the time being.

And thank God he still smells the same and doesn’t shower himself in ridiculously expensive cologne like other guys because you’d disown him if he starts smelling like a Tommy Hilfiger store. Changbin gently wraps his arms around your waist, rocking you from side to side. “You missed me that much huh?” Suddenly tongue-tied, he’s officially lost the ability to form a proper sentence when you hold onto him so tightly, so desperately.

When you pull away, you don’t even know what to say when so many things are running through your mind at the speed of light. After all those years, he’s changed. Yes, people change. But Changbin changed, for the better. He looks impeccable even in a simple black t-shirt with a grey bomber jacket thrown over his figure. Wait, has he been hitting the gym? You swear, last time you saw him he was five times smaller. His jawline can now cut you too apparently. Years of friendship and you just found out your best friend is an actual health freak.

“As if..” You sniffle into the crook of his neck, tears continuously streaming down on your cheeks. Eventually, you give in. “Fine, I did miss you.”

Changbin laughs wholeheartedly, sending vibration throughout your entire body. “Missed you too, Beastie.” And it’s there again, that fuzzy feeling tickling the pit of your stomach. It feels wrong, and your heart knows that too well. To the point that you’re afraid of your own feelings for him, that you’d hurt him, or he’d hurt you. You just can’t decide if confessing to him is worth the risk of destroying your friendship forever. But it’s most definitely not. Maybe it’s better this way.

“Wait,” Changbin scrunches his nose and pulls away. “You smell like a guy.” Then something rings a bell inside of him. “Right, you went on a date with some cute boy without telling me? Explain yourself.”

You scratch the nape of your neck sheepishly, slightly embarrassed. “Well… long story short, I got bored and downloaded Tinder. He was cute, but not compatible.”

“There you are, what took you so long?” Yeji pops her head out of her bedroom, almost giving you a heart attack.

You toss her a look. “What do you mean ‘what took you so long? Did you know? Again ?” And she nods apologetically. “Why the fuck do I feel so left out right now? Are you guys setting me up for something sketchy? Who’s in charge?”

“Your brother, obviously.”

You step aside so that Changbin can walk into your living room before shutting the front door closed. “Zip it, he’s adopted.”

six.

Kim Woojin, as always, throws his annual ‘welcome back’ BBQ party whenever someone returns from a long trip for a fairly long time. Of course, he would never leave Changbin hanging.

Which, also means you’re obligated to accept the fact that he just single-handedly dragged you out of your apartment with the most minimal of physical effort. So now you’re stuck inside his stupid kitchen, with your siblings (no not Minho, not that heathen), potatoes. You look so incredibly alike your brother might actually be whatever with the harsh truth that you can’t stop taunting him about how he’s adopted.

Anyway, because you’ve always been terrified about the thought of accidentally having your sleeves caught on fire, Chan just shooed you back inside to work on the potato salad. And the worst part of making a potato salad? Peeling the skin. Seriously, you’d marry someone who invented an automatic potato peeler, that’d be godsend privilege.

The saying goes : ‘When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade’. Likewise, but in your case, it’s : ‘When life makes you cook, get yourself a best friend who’s good at it instead’. Problem solved. Changbin might not be as great as *snorts* Minho, but he did manage to survive multiple months in Italy without spending too much money eating out when he’s very, absolutely, entirely financially capable of doing that for the rest of his life. He appreciates home-cooked food because of the process, the time, the effort, the love that every family member (or one family member) put into the dishes. And it may not be something that’s Gordon Ramsay-approved, but gathering around at the same table gives people the chance to catch up, to communicate, to care more.

And what does that mean? Well, that means when Changbin, fortunately, makes it out of the war zone in Woojin’s backyard where Hyunjin is chasing Jisung with a dead spider between his metal tong, he finds out that he just, in fact, got himself into another disaster. Bits of potatoes’ skin is everywhere, scattered randomly from the kitchen aisle to the wooden cutting board. Bottles of mayonnaise and mustard are lying lifelessly across the dining table, saucing dripping from the opened caps. And jars of different spices look like they just got dumped into one big bucket, mixed together, and then carefully divided them evenly into each one again. Changbin is utterly alarmed right now and he can’t decide whether he should be helping you or just run away. But since it’s you, he can’t simply turn on his heels and leave because chances are, you’re gonna fucking stab him in his sleep.

“Woah, who did you kill ?” He gasps, taking slow strides toward your figure standing at the kitchen aisle.

You blow a few strands of loose hair out of your face, crying dramatically. “My sanity, it’s long gone.” You tell him as you try to stir the mixture of mayonnaise, paprika, apple cider vinegar, celery seeds, mustard, and sweet pickle relish in a stainless steel bowl with a wooden spoon, trying hard not to ruin Jaemin’s favorite hoodie. “And if you’re not planning on giving me a hand, then the exit is right that way. No one’s stopping you.”

Changbin shakes his head at you in disapproval for a hot minute before pulling your hair free from the loose bun, accidentally dousing himself in the more than familiar scent of your shampoo. Fresh, and a bit pepperminty, he missed this so much it’s starting to get creepy. Basically his heart just swells, but he’s gonna choose to be in denial like usual. “Better get your hair out of your face first.” He says and effortlessly puts your messy, black mop of hair into a high ponytail. It’s not like he hasn’t done this before because Changbin tends to play with your hair a lot while you’re both on a Netflix marathon. But this time, you didn’t know what it was, but the moment the tips of his fingers brushed past your bare skin, they sent electricity down your spine and goosebumps rose on your skin. The fact that your little heart feels like it’s running on a treadmill for hours doesn’t make it easier to deny how much he can affect you without even trying.

“Why are you still wearing that hoodie ?” Changbin points out, confused.

You answer monotonously, still mad at your roommate. “Because Yeji forgot to do laundry. So I have nothing to wear.” You hate her even more now because she’s probably gonna be out and about, going to questionable parties with Ryujin until dawn and asking for a cup of water when she gets back home on your bean bag chair. “I’m gonna have to return it to Jaemin soon.”

Changin snickers. “Yeah, you better.” He finishes chopping up the hard-boiled eggs, celery, sweet onions, and fresh dill, dropping the ingredients into the dressing that you just made.

“So,” You walk over to the dining table to grab the bowl of chopped potato. “How did your date go? Was she cute or did she look like a potential serial killer? Wait, serial killers can look cute.” You shiver at the thought of losing your best friend in some foreign country because someone can literally be kidnapped in a span of fifteen to twenty seconds. So you don’t see the point of being ashamed about always being paranoid.

Changbin helps you pour the dressing over the potato before stirring the goodness together with a wooden spoon. “Ah, that,” He scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly. “She’s okay I guess. But you never know, talking over text is always easier.”

You decide to let Changbin finish up the dish and grab some paper towels to wipe down the table and counter. “So you guys never met up ?”

He looks hesitant to tell you. “Technically, we were gonna see each other every day because of the internship but I guess no? Our schedules aren’t exactly compatible. Maybe I’ll just ask her out again when I fly back.”

You stop cleaning up the mess on the kitchen aisle and turn your attention onto your best friend. He’s nibbling on his bottom lips, guilt is evident in his eyes.

“What internship?” You ask.

seven.

Seo Changbin used to have ( and still has ) a soft spot for you. And everyone knows that all too well.

He wasn’t kidding when he said that you’re his favorite girl. He wasn’t kidding when he said that he’d take a bullet for you. But you kinda wish that he was because falling in love with your childhood best friend just sounds so wrong on so many levels altogether. Jaemin night be right, it is written in the stars for some people to fall in love with their best friend but that life is not for you. There’s just something about the idea of Changbin and you as lovers that twists an immediate knot in your stomach. Sometimes you wish he doesn’t have to be so affectionate towards you so that you can give up on the one thing that’s holding you back : false hope.

He would always drag you out of bed in the middle of the night to watch the stars and talk with him even when you guys were practically inseparable. Your group of friends constantly tells you that Changbin could never keep his hands to himself when it comes to you but realistically, he’s just a secretly clingy person who loves cuddling. But those little moments where you guys were sharing the same bed, snuggling into each other’s presence like it’s the last sense of comfort in the entire world were the ones you cherish the most. They can make you smile stupidly to yourself all day.

And Changbin never failed to surprise you too. He once made the whole fancy breakfast in bed with flowers that only happens in movies and you couldn’t stop talking about it. Even ‘till this day, you still can’t shut up about it. He only brushed it off and told you that he wanted to spoil you since it’s your birthday but you took it as something much more than just a birthday present. Because those little actions of his are what set your heart on fire and you feel like it could combust anytime if he keeps looking at you so tenderly all the time.

Changbin isn’t a man of many words because he truly believes that actions speak louder than words. At least for him, his actions are much more powerful than his words. But that doesn’t mean his words never had any kind of effect on you. Because they did, greatly. You still remember how you’d always wake him up in the middle of the night because your stupid brain cells decided to give you a mental breakdown after bottling feelings up for so long. But Changbin didn’t just scold you for keeping everything to yourself, he did something else much more magical and much more comforting than any advice you could ever have.

He’s written plenty of songs for you before, and you can still vividly hear the familiar melodies every now and then whenever you’re in a really dark place.

It felt like a tight hug when you were all alone and in distress. But what sucks is that it makes you miss him even more. Where in the world is he? What is he doing? Does he have a decent life? Moreover, is he happy? You were always worried sick about Changbin because he’s that type of guy who works his ass off for things that he’s passionate about but he’d be willing to do something else for others because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Hence, upon hearing about him turning down an internship just to fly back, you didn’t know what to say or think.

You yell at Changbin. “Are you out of your mind?!”

He huffs in disbelief. “I’m a fully grown man who has every right to make my own decisions so I chose to visit my friends instead of torturing myself inside a studio. Yeah, sue me!”

“Do you have any idea how many opportunities and chances that internship would bring? There’s no need for you to do that just because of us!”

Changbin points out snarkily. “Well, you were the one who decided to call me at 3 a.m. every single day, complaining about your insomnia and shit.”

You gasp scandalously. “Why are you even saying that? It’s like you don’t even know me! I’m trying to put your benefits before mine, why is it so hard to understand that? Are you trying to say that I’m the bad guy in this conversation?”

“Maybe you are,” He says through gritted teeth. “Likewise, I’m trying to put my friends first instead of locking myself up within four soundproof walls twenty-four hours a day, five days a week, until spring break is over. You are being fucking ridiculous!”

You’re slightly taken aback when Changbin had the audacity to say such things. Why is he still so fucking stubborn? “I’m the one who’s being ridiculous? Me trying to not get my best friend's talent wasted, me trying to not have my best friend make the rest of his break go wack because all we do here is apparently get drunk, eat, sleep, and repeat. That, is being ridiculous ?” You let out a humorless laugh. “Well, if I need to keep on doing that in order to keep you on track with your dream, then I fucking will.”

He hisses at you. “What are you? My mom? I’m a fully grown adult for fuck’s sake!”

“Yes, I am technically your mom since the day you threw up on my dress in kindergarten. I even wiped your puke off of your face, you ungrateful brat.”

“Uhm guys, you might wanna tone it down..” Felix tries to cool off the situation since he doesn’t really enjoy eating dinner while two people are continuously throwing daggers at each other with their eyes.

Another thing, no matter how whipped you are for Seo Changbin, there’s still this little demonic part in your heart that screams to strangle the light out of his eyes every single day. Even back then, you guys bickered like there’s no tomorrow without a care in the world. Fortunately, your problems were always quick to be resolved because you just could never bring yourself to hate him even when you wanted to. He’s just that contagious, never fails to put a smile on your face nonetheless.

So naturally, it’s ten minutes into the BBQ party in Woojin’s backyard and you’re more than ready to fight him. Metaphorically, not literally because you’re too utterly soft for him anyway.

“Shh, shh,” Minho easily shushes Felix up with his index finger over his lips. “Lix, keep it down, the Petty Olympics is just getting started.”

Jeongin purses his lips. “You’re such a snake, did you know that?” He’s obnoxiously chewing on the slices of grilled steak that Chan just took off the iron rack. Like Felix, he wishes to enjoy dinner in peace but that has not happened for quite some time and he’s already sick of it.

Minho rolls his eyes at the younger boy with nothing but disgust in his eyes. “Wow, what a truly shocking revelation, Jeongin. It’s for the irony, sarcasm is needed in order for my joke to work.” He sips on the glass of whiskey in front of him like how he simply sips on his coworkers’ complaints about their relationships every morning. “Now run along, grab your monthly paycheck and buy yourself a sense of humor.”

Jisung snickers. “Wow, is he mean today—“

You cut Jisung off unintentionally, huffing with such determination. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

Changbin says casually. “It’s not like I want to.”

“I will break you.” You give him your best death glare.

He tips his imaginary hat with a smirk tugged on his lips. “If that’s what makes you happy, then I certainly cannot wait for it, Little Mistress.”

eight.

It’s the second time you’re hanging out with Jaemin and still, you can’t bring yourself to develop any non-platonic feelings for him. Do you really want to date him? Not really. Again, he’s not a bad guy. In fact, girls can just pass by you both walking by the Han River and they’re already eyeing him up and down like an expensive piece of steak.

Maybe it’s something about trying to push Changbin out of your mind for once in your life. Or it can be something about the fact that he actually has some kind of romantic interest in his Tinder date. Or you’re just being ridiculous and totally overthinking the situation.

It’s sad, but you’ll have to accept it sooner or later. You see Jaemin as nothing but a friend, and a little brother because he’s funny, respectful, and everything you can ask for in a guy. But, at the end of the day, he’s just not Changbin.

And although you’re madly in love with your best friend, it seems like Jaemin gets you and manages to keep your mind off of him for the day so that you don’t end up crying alone in one of the bathroom stalls. You can’t be any more thankful.

“You seriously didn’t have to watch ‘Dolittle’ twice just because of me,” Jaemin tells you as you both stand at the front door of the movies, hugging his bucket of popcorn closer to his stomach.

You smile at him. “Robert Downey Jr. is worth watching any movie twice. That’s why I’m still not over the Endgame depression phase because I may or may not watch it one too many times.”

He rolls his eyes at you and proceeds to throw his garbage away. “Crybaby.” Then, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and walks you towards the entrance. “I had fun tonight. Thanks, Y/N, it means a lot. Should I walk you home?”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t.” You answer cheekily.

Jaemin teases, “Because your boyfriend might show up and punch me in the face?”

“Shut up! He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Woah, I didn’t even say who it was. You’re so whipped for him.”

You elbow him in the stomach, earning a low grunt from him as a response. “I shouldn’t have given you your hoodie back. I should have burnt it or something.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you, holding onto the paper bag that you brought tightly. “No, keep it if you want to. You look good in it.”

Before you can even clap-back at him with a witty retort, your phone vibrates inside your pocket. “Sorry, someone texted me.”

[ 9:23p.m. ]

meanhoe | Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?!

meanhoe | SOMEONE BROKE INTO OUR HOUSE!

meanhoe | I’m upstairs rn, but there were some sketchy sounds earlier. I think they’re in our kitchen.

meanhoe | Bin’s still in the living room!

meanhoe | COME HOME!!

Oh. My. God.

nine.

“Changbin, pick up, pick up,” You murmur and keep pacing back and forth at your parents’ front porch, frantically fumbling with your phone in your hands. “Goddamnit just pick up!” You groan out of frustration when you can’t even open the door because it’s locked, and Changbin’s not doing a great job at responding to your calls either. Which can only mean one thing, he’s being held hostage inside along with your brother and the intruder’s probably confiscated their phones.

You’d take a bullet for Changbin if that’s the last thing you could do for him. There are no words to fathom how important he is to you, so now instead of thinking of how to save his ass, you’re stupidly, foolishly thinking back to high school where he would always eat lunch with you whenever Minho’s too caught up with practice, where you both would lie under an ugly tree at the very back of your school’s enormous backyard, trying to do homework and dozing off five minutes after. Changbin’s been with you through thicks and thins, with all of your ups and downs. His lack of doubt for you was what helped you survive those horrendous years and you’ve decided that you’re not gonna let go of him, not in this life.

Therefore, you’re about to do something dumb. That something is going to prevent your best friend from getting murdered. But the chances of getting your head blown into bits are undeniably high too. That wouldn’t matter now, would it? If the intruder dares to tick you off, he best believes that you’re gonna fucking take him down with you.

Mustering all of the courage you have left, slowly, your fingers hover over the doorknob, the other on the wooden surface, ready to bang on it like a crazy person. You inhale sharply and close your eyes. 3..2..1..

The door suddenly swings open, causing you to stagger forward and your eyes widen in panic. “Y/N? What the hell?” Changbin catches you in time and frowns furiously at your soaked figure. Your hair and clothes are doused with rain, the tips of your fingers as cold as ice from staying outside for so long. You flutter your eyes open at his words, mouth grows agape when you find out that your current position can’t be any more awkward.

Great, now what?

Wait, where’s the intruder? “Are you okay?!” You mindlessly throw yourself at him, holding onto him so tightly like he’s gonna disintegrate into thin air once you let him go. Blood is roaring inside your ears, your heart is picking up its pace as you have so many questions, so many things to say but.. he seems pretty okay? “Is Minho okay too? Where is he? Why didn’t you pick up my calls? Why was the door locked?”

Changbin pulls away softly to prevent you from hearing his heart thumping vigorously inside of his rib cage, eyes as wide as a goldfish’s. “What? Minho’s downtown today to meet up with his old friend who’s studying abroad. Didn’t he tell you?”

“No?” You knit your brows together and take a full ten seconds to process what just happened. Why do you feel like you just got played?

He closes the door and walks you inside. “And why the hell do you look like a wet rat? Did you just walk home? Weren’t that Jaemin guy supposed to drive you instead?” You purposely ignore his questions and continue to piece the little amount of information that you have together. But once you throw a glance at your parents’ living room, you see a box of fresh, piping hot Hawaiian pizza with ‘Fast and Furious’ playing on the forty-eight inches TV. With that, everything makes sense.

You ran home as fast as you possibly could, under the rain when it’s dark outside all alone and this is how your brother repays you?

“Wow,” You utter, somewhat lightheaded. “I need to sit down.” You tell Changbin when he comes back with a white fluffy, towel. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, wordlessly bringing the towel to your head as an attempt to dry off your hair. You’re startled by his sudden affection, cheeks growing pink as you avoid eye contact.

Changbin caresses your cheekbone gently as if you’re far too fragile for him to touch and you just play dumb by batting your eyelashes repeatedly to shake the droplets of rain away. He quickly snaps out of it, taken aback by his own action. “Would you care to tell me what happened before I put you on trial?” He says with his arms crossed.

Your blood slowly boils as you choke on your own exasperation.“Minho told me that someone broke into our house and basically held you hostage. So I rain-checked on Jaemin, ran home only to find you in one piece with a pizza while watching ‘Fast & Furious’.” You hide your face behind your palms in sheer embarrassment as Changbin cackles his ass off in his annoyingly adorable laughter that makes you crack up every time.

He throws his head back and continues to laugh wholeheartedly, holding onto his stomach for dear life. “He got you good, wow. So much for supporting his sister’s second date. I’m sure he just wants to make sure that you’re home before twelve.”

“HE COULD HAVE JUST PICKED ME UP HIMSELF! HELLO?” You throw your hands in the air, huffing. You swear to God, Minho’s dead meat to you tomorrow morning. Your brother knows your feelings for Changbin all too well and he’s just doing everything he can to kick Jaemin out of your love life but the irony here is Jaemin was never there in the first place. But, Minho’s an evil mad genius so he still succeeded in pushing you back to Changbin when you’re trying to avoid him the most. Props to him, you’re now stuck inside a house with your best friend because your parents are currently going on vacation in Bora Bora.

That wouldn’t be a problem unless you’re madly in love with him. But you are, and it sucks.

You exclaim, smacking Changbin’s arm, causing him to whine loudly. “Would you stop laughing? I was scared that you’re gonna get murdered!”

In a split second, he pulls you flushed against him, rocking you back and forth as he ruffles your hair. When the vibration of his chuckle emits from his chest just makes your heart skip a beat. Changbin’s never been the cheesy, romantic type like Hyunjin but sometimes he does these things that just messes up your heart more as if it’s not already all over the place.

“Come on, Beastie, go change your clothes. I wouldn’t wanna cuddle with a sick person.”

ten.

One shower and five minutes later, you’re on the sofa right beside Changbin with your head rested comfortably on his shoulder. The first episode of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ is blaring clamorously on your dad’s TV as your eyelids grow heavy, hanging on the edge of shutting before your favorite character even pops up.

Changbin notices your sleepiness and pulls the wool blanket closer to your body, high enough to cover the rest of your shoulders as you snuggle into the crook of his neck. He pouts at the box of pizza and two empty bottles of Henny before playing with your hair, braiding a small section of it in boredom. He’s definitely not the type to rewatch any shows but since you’re just so pumped for the second season, you insisted that you two should binge-watch season one all over again. Obviously, he doesn’t see the point because he already knows everything, how does rewatching it has anything to do with getting him ready for the next season? Besides, you’re already falling asleep when it’s only ten minutes into the episode.

But is Changbin gonna let you sleep in peace just like that after all those years of you waking him up at an ungodly hour? Nope.

“Hey,” He nudges you with his elbow. “They said there wouldn’t be a second season.”

You jolt up from your sleepy state, eyes shooting open in utter surprise and disappointment. “Wait what?! Why not?!” You cry out dramatically, hands batting in midair like a madwoman as if they’re looking for something to hold onto. Soon enough, you plop yourself back onto the couch in defeat, letting the alcohol take over your entire body. You can already feel it kicking in as your limbs grow lighter and so does your mind. Gosh, you just wish you weren’t so lightweight.

Changbin chuckles at you, caressing your hair softly. He pulls you closer to him by your shoulder and takes in your scent like it’s the last sense of comfort on Earth. “You’re so cute when you’re drunk, did you know that?” He studies your features closely, quickly realizing how much he must matter to you for you to show this vulnerable side to him so casually. Giddiness is an understatement for the way that his heart just beats ten times faster, the way his arms hold you close so gently but so tightly at the same time. In this cracked darkness with the insufficient source of light from the TV screen, you’re so beautiful it takes the breath right out of his lungs. You seem too serene to be true, eyes closed, lips slightly agape it makes him wonder how it feels to seal his with yours.

As if on cue, your favorite character appears on time and you swat the sleepiness away, pointing at the screen with half-open eyes. “Five! He’s so cute, can I adopt him, please?” You giggle and show him those infamous puppy eyes. Changbin can never resist it’s actually frustrating.

“Yes, you can adopt a serial killer who knows how to travel through time, absolutely.” Changbin facepalms himself. “Honestly, what do you even see in him?”

“He’s smart and funny, and a total badass. I like how he never sugarcoats things and stays true to himself. But, he also puts others before himself without expecting them to do the same thing back. His actions speak louder than his words because there are countless times where he saved his siblings although he talks to them as if he sees them as nothing more than a bunch of assholes. I admire him in so many ways although he’s just a fictional character. And you know why?” You cock your head sideways, leaning closer. “Because he kinda reminds me of you.”

Changbin tenses up at the last part. “W-What?”

The ‘sober Y/N’ would never be brave enough to tell him what you’re planning on saying next. “I love you, Bin. I know that I might not act like I give a fuck, but I genuinely care about you. You mean the world to me.” You blurt mindlessly, hiccuping into his ears. “I really do love you. I just never got the courage to say it.” You hum and toppling over his figure on top of the couch, your legs straddling his.

“We can’t.” Changbin places his index finger on your lips to stop you from decreasing the distance. “You’re not thinking straight right now.”

You pull back, frowning. “Why? Because I’m not sober? What do my feelings for you have anything to do with alcohol?” You’re not mad, but rather curious. Either way, you can’t seem to get mad at Changbin for more than ten seconds.

“I- I don’t wanna hurt you.” He stutters and stops as he sees the heartbroken look in your eyes. It hurts even more because deep down, the sober part in you knows that you’d never fathom enough courage to actually tell him how you feel. And you also know that you’ve just potentially fucked up more than ten years worth of friendship. Changbin’s warm brown eyes stare at you with nothing but pure sincerity. “It’s like I’m taking advantage of you in this kind of state. It’s not right. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.” He brushes your hair out of your face and sighs.

“Bin, you respect me like no one else does. You know it. I know it. We know it. You’re my best friend.”

“That’s the problem.” He pulls you closer while rubbing little circles on your back. “Promise me that we’ll never change, yeah?”

You wrap your hands around his neck, a tear threatening to fall from the corner of your eye. “Yeah..promise.”

“Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He reassures you as a confirmation, standing up from the couch that he’s been occupying for too long. You keep your gaze low, unable to meet his eyes as you’re ashamed of your own action. You shouldn’t have done that. What were you thinking for fuck’s sake?

Changbin turns off the TV before guiding you towards the stairs in the dark, holding onto your waist tightly enough so that you won’t slip. “Don’t blame yourself on this, okay?”

You voice quietly, almost a whisper. “Okay.”

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

eleven.

That night, you held onto Changbin like he’s the last thing you’re ever gonna see although you knew too well that it’s meaningless. What’s the point anyways? He just slapped your confession away and that alone was enough for you to understand that he sees you as nothing more than a friend. However, it’s still better than being stuck in that weird gray area that just keeps messing with your mind. You wouldn’t want to get in his way either. So when Changbin tried to peel your hands away from his torso gently in the middle of the night, your eyes remained closed as you rolled on the other side of the bed.

When you woke up in the morning, he was already gone.

It’s like he’s never been there all of those years as if he’s just an illusion that your delusional self made up to comfort yourself when things get hard. All of his belongings were nowhere to be found, his bed in the guest room was neatly made, something that he’s never done before. Changbin left no traces, no notes, no messages, no nothing like it’s a natural implement for ‘Don’t bother looking for me, I’m not gonna come back’. But to you, it feels more like ‘You fucked up our friendship, Y/N. I will never speak to you again’.

Losing a best friend of a lifetime is way worse than going through a breakup. But it hurts more when you’ve unintentionally developed feelings for him when you know too well that it’s not right. It’s not right. And you seriously screwed up. You just hurt the one and only person that’s so incredibly close and special to your heart. Therefore, you’re distraught, unable to do anything right for some of the following days. Utterly destroyed, you can’t seem to stop blaming yourself for what happened.

Changbin’s done so much for you and you can’t be any more grateful to have him in your life. There was this time where you totally lashed out on him because you were just having a ‘bad day’. He didn’t even get mad at you, he never gets mad at you. Instead, Changbin let you lock yourself up in your room for an hour until he came back with a box of chocolate and flowers. Everything fell right back into its place again and you really don’t know what you did to deserve him. He always goes out of his way, prioritizing others’ benefits rather than his own. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone at all because, in your heart, you know that he can be hurt easily too.

So it’s no shocker that you’re madly in love with him. You like how he smiles and looks at you like you’re the only person that’s existing in this celestial sphere. You like the sound of his laughter because it reminds you of Spongebob sometimes, it’s ridiculously adorable in the best way possible. You also like how he clings onto you and lets you be the big spoon whenever he’s having a long day, you can’t stop smiling knowing that he finds comfort in your presence.

The only flaw about him is that he’s all about that healthy life, which is good for him but you’re not adapting that any time soon. And he doesn’t talk about himself enough as he’s always used to listening to others’ problems instead. He’s flawsome, but you’re willing to embrace it all. Yes, as cheesy as it sounds, you love all of him.

Just because he’s Seo Changbin.

You stay up for many days, thinking an awful amount and flashbacking to when you’re on top of him, staring at him so tenderly as those idiotic words slipped out of your lips. All of because of one single beer. You just wish you could take it all back. If so, maybe you wouldn’t have lost the person you care about the most.

“No, she won’t eat no matter what I say.” You can hear Yeji’s voice echoes from the living room as you throw an arm over your eyes. “I don’t think you should see her right now, not when she’s on the verge of breaking down every two seconds.” You don’t even have to look to know that your brother’s outside, probably worried sick about you. Minho might not be the type of person to show affections on a regular basis, but he genuinely cares about the people around him. He just doesn’t know how to express that he cares.

The front door closes with a small ‘click’, making you jolt up from your bed. Your roommate pushes the door to your bedroom open and runs a hand through her hair. She practically grimaces at the current state of your room : curtains closed, clothes scattered all over the place with you still in your PJs. It’s funny because normally, you’re the one who complains whenever she’s being messy, now Yeji has the perfect reason to pay back. “Jesus Christ,” She frowns when her hands open the beige-colored curtains. “Get yourself together, will you?”

“Leave-me-alone.” You hiss at her like a snake when the light comes flooding in, blinding your eyes in the process. “What do you want? Am I not depressed enough to be at peace?”

She shakes her head and sits down next to your reclined form on the bed, a hand finds its way to your back. “No, you’re just in denial.” Yeji pulls your figure closer, embracing you with as much sincerity that she can muster. She might as well have you scream at her for forgetting to do laundry and waking up late rather than seeing you barely alive like this. If this goes on for too long, you might end up in the ER. And she can care less about whatever you’re planning on doing next because clearly, you’re not emotionally stable enough to make your own decisions right now.

You look down. “About what?”

“About the fact that Seo Changbin likes you too.” She says softly. “Only a dumbass can’t see that he’s completely head over heels for you.”

You chuckle dryly. “He’s not, he probably hates me.”

“He never hated you, he never hates you, and he will never hate you.” Yeji sighs as you snuggle closer to her chest. “Why would you think that Changbin hates you?”

Your eyes widen in terror as the night before when he left replays in your head over and over again. The more you think about it, the more you wanna kick yourself for not controlling our own feelings. Three words and your best friend’s gone. He was right, you guys could never, you weren’t thinking straight. Even down to that moment, Changbin put you before him and treated you with nothing but respect. “Because I ruined our friendship. Things are never gonna be the same again. I shouldn’t have fallen for him, I’m so stupid.” You let out an audible groan and bury your face into your palms.

Yeji peels your hands away and forces you to look at her. “I don’t see why falling for Seo Changbin is considered stupid. You see things in him that no one else does, and you even had the courage to confess how you truly feel, even when it’s because of a bottle of Henny. Not everyone can accept that because people are cowards when it comes to commitment and their own feelings.” She keeps looking you dead in the eye as if she’s testing you. “Look, even if Changbin doesn’t feel the same way. He can never hate you.”

“And why should I believe you?”

Your roommate laughs in disbelief, shaking your shoulder forcefully. “Are you blind? Do you even hear yourself right now? Haven’t you seen the way that he looks at you, eyes sparkling like puppies and all? If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is. Even if it’s not the love that you wanted him to return, he still loves you as a friend. He just ran away because, well, he’s human too. He might need some time to himself and make up his mind.”

You stare into the distance this time, eyes empty. “True love doesn’t count if it’s not returned, don’t you agree?”

Yeji rolls her eyes at you, she looks like she’s about to personally drag your ass across the planet, straight to Italy just to make up with Changbin. “Oh-my-god, you’re impossible! Of course, it counts! So what, you’re telling me that your feelings for him after all these years would mean nothing if he doesn’t say those three words back? I know that you’re sad and angry about what happened, but I think it’s much better than bottling everything up all to yourself. You were brave for doing that, Y/N.”

Your lips stay sealed as you decide to listen to her lecture obediently like a child. “Do you think Changbin would want to see you like this? No, no one wants to see you all depressed and miserable. Do you have any idea how worried Minho is? Have you checked the notifications on your phone? It’s not like you can’t move on with life without Changbin, you can and you will if that’s what you have to do.”

“So..?”

“Are you gonna step up and get your life back again or what?”

You groan internally, because gosh, you hate it whenever she’s right.

twelve.

From then on, Changbin’s like a phantom in your life, not because he’s constantly popping out of nowhere to scare the living daylight out of you, but because he’s constantly on your mind. Everything feels a little bit emptier without him. You don’t have to worry about having cilantro in your daily meals because he’s not there to complain about it. And there’s no longer a random cup of chai tea in the fridge on Sunday mornings because he can’t buy you one anymore.

But at the same time, everything reminds you of him. Like how his pairs of designer shoes aren’t laying around at your front door, how his favorite hoodies aren’t being forgotten at your place intentionally, and how the Stitch stuffed animal he gave you last year still reeks off his significant scent. Everything gives you a hard time to finally let him go, but ultimately, you know that you’ll pull through. And you did.

You move on with a college degree waiting for you at the end of this dark, bumpy road. Changbin, on the other hand, you can’t say much because his SoundCloud account is currently empty. He deleted every single song, every mixtape, every demo possible as if he’s trying to wipe his existence out of your life completely. Which makes it more difficult for you to muster up some courage and reach out to him again.

It’s almost a year, and you wish he could have just given you a sign about whether he’s fine with being friends or not. But as always, leaving notes is definitely not his department. The thing is, you feel like you both didn’t just grow apart. You also grew up.

“Y/N, did you ask me to go to the movies just because you didn’t feel like studying for finals?” Jaemin nudges you with his elbow and you smack his arms in return. Okay, technically you did grow up but old habits die hard, and you’re still procrastinating. Nothing new, but the occasional non-dates with Jaemin somehow helped with the aching part in your heart. You can’t say that he’s your new best friend because gosh, no one could ever replace Changbin. But ever since you found out that you guys go to the same college, you kept running into him on campus. Hence, hanging out with him is practically unavoidable.

You laugh, letting him swing an arm around your shoulders. “Nope, it’s because I love hanging out with you.”

“Does that naturally imply as you love me?” He grins coyly before approaching your car at the very end of the parking lot. You’ve talked about this before. ‘Love’ is an overstatement for the love that you have for Jaemin. Of course, you love him, just not in a romantic way and he accepts that. Although he does sometimes pull you in as a stunt just to get a discount for buying a couples’ combo. You let him, only because you’re both broke college students who are dreading your own student’s loans.

“Sure, I just love you so much I can’t even bring myself to say it without doing this.” You slowly feed his ego and your right hand quickly grabs the right side of his ears, dragging him into the driver’s seat of your car. Jaemin stops wincing once you let him go, pouting when you enter through the back door. “Serves you right.” You scoff, throwing him the key to start the engine.

He rubs his now swollen, red ear in pain, whining out loud like a kid that’s not allowed to buy popcorn when their parents bring them to the movie theatre. “This is domestic violence, I’m suing.” He complains but still hits the gas and starts backing out of the overpacked parking lot. People go wild during the weekends. That’s why you’re letting him drive because you suck.

You smile satisfactorily. “Ah, enslaved child labor at its finest.” If looks could kill, Minho would probably find your corpse in the car, limbs spread wide open because Jaemin is occasionally tossing you dirty looks through the rear-view mirror as he finds a way to hide a body while driving towards your neighborhood.

When you get home, you politely offer Jaemin to stay for dinner but he said he’s got a date to catch up with so you just let him be. Yeji isn’t gonna be home until nine because of her shift at the café so you basically have the whole apartment to yourself until your roommate returns from work.

Exhausted from spending all day on campus and going to the movies after, you quickly get rid of your long coat and plop yourself onto the couch. You waste absolutely no time and automatically hang yourself upside down on the cushioned surface while scrolling through your feed in boredom. You like to change up your position every ten minutes so that you feel less like a potato while your blood circulation isn’t gonna get blocked anywhere.

The moment you’re about to accept a video call from Jisung, you’re interrupted with a rather strange notification. You decide to text him, saying that you’re busy with a presentation and open the email from an unknown email. The email doesn’t have any specific title and you don’t think it belongs to any of your classmates. However, there’s a file attached to it which makes you even more confused. Who’d send a random video to someone they don’t even know? What if this is some kind of trick that people use for human trafficking? Like once you tap on it, there’s an automatic tracker on your phone and soon enough, you’ll go missing.

“for_you.mp4”

It makes your heart skip a beat as realization hits you like a truck. Deep down, you know, you know who it belongs to and you’re even more terrified to watch it. But you have to, you have to watch it. With a sharp inhale, your index finger trembles until it comes in contact with your screen, opening the file.

“Is this thing on?”

You immediately burst into tears as soon as Changbin appears. You’re stupidly, foolishly crying as he awkwardly adjusts the camera angle, checking himself in the monitor and runs a hand through his hair. Changbin’s wearing that one fitted black t-shirt that he probably bought in big bulks, warm brown eyes peeking through his messy bangs. He’s never looked better to the point that you’re tongue-tied, unable to scream even when you have so many questions, so many things to say. Yet only tears come streaming down your face. You missed him dearly, and here he is finally.

“Y/N?” Changbin quirks a brow and smiles. God, you missed his smile too. “If you’re watching this video, don’t..post it on social media. It’s gonna be a real tearjerker.”

You chuckle, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your hoodie. He didn’t change, at all. “I don’t know if you can still forgive me for what I’ve done, but I still owe you an apology. I’m sorry for running away. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. I’m sorry for not treating you right. It’s just when you said that you loved me, it sparked so much skepticism inside my head that even I couldn’t understand what I was thinking. Next thing I know, I was out the door, straight to the airport. I was an asshole and I know that. I hope you’re taking good care of yourself right now because you did nothing wrong. In fact, there’s something that I’ve been wanting to tell you too. I can’t seem to be complete without you. You’re it. You’re my endgame.”

When Changbin takes in a deep breath, so do you. You nervously scratch onto the black nail polish that’s starting to chip off on your pinkie, waiting for him as he fiddles with his fingers. Suddenly, he looks straight into the camera and laughs. “Why are you still here? You didn’t see the notification, did you?”

What notification?

Your trains of thoughts are once again canceled when your phone buzzes. You’ve just got a notification from an app that you barely touched since Changbin left. “SpearB just posted a new track. Check it out!”

“Neverending Story ( Demo ).”

Faster than a tick of the clock, you start playing the track, fingers drumming impatiently on one of your throw pillows. “Be mine, yeah?” His raspy voice sounds ten thousand times more attractive because it’s been a while since you’ve heard it and chills run up your spine. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, your heart hanging on the verge of exploding. The soft instrumental blends in with the piano in the background perfectly, drowning out every other sound in the entire world. But what throws you off is that Changbin starts singing. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sing and it’s truly breathtaking that you can do nothing more than sitting there with a hand over your mouth, letting the melody guide your mind.

“Whenever you smile, whenever you struggle

I'll always protect you

For you,

I can even go against time

Just to appear in front of you

I believe, I believe

Even if the world changes

Can you promise that we won't?”

The first verse bleeds into the pre-chorus, then the chorus itself and Changbin starts rapping, spilling the feelings that he’s been struggling with saying out for you. Every word, every sound, every note hits differently and you feel like you’re already on cloud nine, drifting off into a daze. You can fully acknowledge and feel the ignited passion that he has for you even when he’s more than five thousand miles away, on the other side of the planet. But that’s all you need honestly because what more can you ask for?

As if on cue, the song ends and there’s a knock at your door.

Heat rushes up the bridge of your nose as you wobble towards the front door, head still slightly lightheaded from the mixture of emotions. You quickly fix your hair, straightening your hoodie and your toes curl from the nervousness. The moment you twist the doorknob, Changbin backs you up against the wall, shutting the door with his feet. He stares you down intensely, making you feel extremely small in comparison. But those eyes of his are filled with nothing but adoration for you and only you. “I’m in love with you, the same way that you meant it back then. I’ve been in love with you for even God doesn’t know how long. I booked a plane ticket and wrote the song as soon as that thought clicked in me. You’re all that I need. I want you to be my one and only. And I still want you back, so what do you say?”

Your lips curl upwards softly into a smile. “You’re really outdoing yourself, aren’t you? I confessed to you when I was drunk and not only did you film a video, but you also wrote a song for me?”

“Only for you, Beastie.” Changbin chuckles and pulls you closer, sealing the gap between your lips. He’s done it, he did what he’s been wanting to for his entire life : to know what being in love actually feels like. His kiss isn’t even somewhere near as those movie stars’ that you both used to make fun of every weekend. It’s one that steeped into a passion that flickers at the very pit of your stomach, one that makes you feel like home, like he’s your safe place. Changbin’s said everything that he wanted but he kisses you as a silent promise that he will do stupid things just to be with you, to have you right by his side for the rest of his life.

He’s the first to pull away, resting his forehead against yours as you both exchange shallow breaths. Smiling at you, Changbin can’t help himself but peppers small kisses all over your face from your forehead to the tip of your nose.

Life likes to toss you around and fuck you up sometimes but somehow, magically it always puts everything back in its place. The amount of tears that you’ve shed feels like payment for what you’re holding in your arms right now but there’s nothing that you won’t do to be here, in his embrace. Technically, Changbin didn’t have to say those three words back and he only did because he could, not because he needed to.

Even if he’s five thousand miles away, no one else is closer to your heart than he is. He loves you with all of the madness in his soul.

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