#Console Table Market

[chemicalresearchupdates]

Console Table Market Size, Share, Trends, Analysis, and Forecast to 2027

Console Tables: An Essential Addition to Any Home Decor Console tables are classic and versatile pieces of furniture that add functionality as well as style to any home décor. From modern finishes to ornate detailing, console tables come in a wide variety of designs to complement all sorts of interior styles. In this article, we will explore the many uses of console tables, popular styles available, tips for styling and caring for your console table as well as recommend some of the best options to consider for your home. Uses of Console Tables Console tables have multiple uses that make them highly practical additions to any living space. Some of the main uses of console tables include: Entranceway Furniture: A well-placed console table by the front door is a convenient spot to display mail, keys, devices and other items as you come in and out of the home. Its open shelf and drawer storage keeps these items organized and out of the way. Kitchen Surface: Console tables provide additional counter space for food preparation in kitchens with insufficient countertops. They can double up as serving stations for snacks, drinks or meals. Opt for a moisture-resistant console table for the kitchen. Display Shelves: Their open shelves make console tables perfect for decorating with photos, plants, candles, sculptures and other room accents. Console tables allow for thoughtful curation and change up of home décor accents. Workspace: Drawers provide handy storage for office supplies, laptops or craft materials. The top surface serves as a workspace for activities like paying bills, homework, crafting and more. TV Stands: Wide or long console tables double up beautifully as TV stands with space below to hide components and cables. Choose a console table measuring 2-3 inches wider than your TV for the best fit. Popular Console Table Styles Whether you prefer sleek minimalism or ornate traditional styles, there is a wide variety of console table styles to choose from: Modern Console Tables: Characterized by clean lines, solid colors and simple details. Materials often include metal, wood, glass or marble in glossy contemporary finishes. Transitional Console Tables: A blend of traditional motifs with clean modern silhouettes. Motifs include turned wooden legs, curves and ornate hardware in a subdued manner. Traditional Console Tables: Featuring carved details, curved apron rails and ornate legs and moldings. Materials include wood, stone or metal bronzed or silver finishes. Common styles include French, English and Victorian inspirations. Industrial Console Tables: Evoking a factory or warehouse aesthetic with materials like unfinished wood, open metal beams, grass cloths fabrics or distressed leather. Angular silhouettes. Rustic Console Tables: Using reclaimed or distressed wood for a weathered look. Natural unfinished wood tones and distressed detailing like knots and cracks give it a lived-in appeal. Mid-Century Modern Console Tables: Inspired by the upbeat aesthetic of the 1950-70s. Features tapered slim silhouettes, clean geometric shapes, wood grains and glossy bright colors.

[downincmi]

Console Table Market: Trends and Innovations Unveiled

Console tables are versatile furniture pieces primarily used as a storage solution for items like keys, mail and small decor items in homes. Their horizontal surface and open or closed storage underneath makes them ideal for corridors, entryways or living areas. Increasing demand for multi-functional and aesthetically appealing home furnishings has boosted the popularity of console tables in recent years. The Global Console Table Market is estimated to be valued at US$ 6.70 Billion in 2024 and is expected to exhibit a CAGR of 5.4% over the forecast period 2023 to 2030.

Growing consumer preference for visually appealing yet practical pieces has been a key driver for console tables. Their minimalistic designs help blend into any home decor theme while also providing necessary storage. Key Takeaways

Key players operating in the Console Table market are IKEA, Ashley Furniture Industries, La-Z-Boy, Ethan Allen, Restoration Hardware (RH), Crate & Barrel, Pottery Barn, Wayfair, West Elm, Bernhardt. The market provides ample opportunities for new entrants to venture into specialized niche designs and eco-friendly materials. Favourable demographics and rising income levels in developing regions will aid expansion of global brands into new international markets over the coming years. Market drivers

Increased home renovation and remodeling activities especially in North America and Europe are expected to propel demand for console tables. Their versatility allows them to be well-utilized in both contemporary and traditional style homes.

PEST Analysis Political: Console table market is governed by household goods related policies and standards laid down by state and central government authorities regarding manufacturing, trade and sales of the product. Economic: Stable domestic economic growth, rising disposable incomes and increasing urbanization have fueled demand for homes and home furnishings like console tables in past few years. Social: Changing lifestyle trends, nuclearization of families and preference for modern aesthetic home décor have positively impacted sales of console tables. Technological: Advancements in material science, manufacturing processes and supply chain technology have helped producers develop differentiated, innovative and high quality console table designs appealing to customers. Major Geographical Regions Where Market is Concentrated in Terms of Value North America has traditionally been the dominant regional market for console tables accounting for over 35% of global revenues. Developed markets in the United States and Canada contributed significantly to high console table sales volumes in North America. Europe is another important geographical region represented by developed furniture markets of Western and Northern European countries like Germany, France, United Kingdom, Italy etc. Europe commanded over 30% share of worldwide console table market value. Fastest Growing Regional Market Asia Pacific region has emerged as the fastest expanding market for console tables globally driven by burgeoning middle class population in leading economies like China, Japan and India. Rapid urbanization, nuclearization of families and growing income levels increased furniture penetration in Asia Pacific household sector. The console table market is projected to continue its steady expansion at a CAGR of 5.4% during the forecast period of 2023-2030 supported by increasing discretionary spending on home furnishings around the world.

[tasteracha]

a/n: minho puts a vibrator in you and makes you ride his thigh idk there is no plot here. i wrote this in 20 mins. smut - MINORS DNI.

this might have been the most stressful car ride of your entire life. every single bump, turn, and stop of the vehicle sent pangs of want pulsing through your core, and the worst part is that the toy wasn’t even on the highest setting yet. 

minho had handed the thing to you as you were walking out of the door and watched with hungry eyes as you slipped it under the hem of your sundress, past the lining of your underwear and into your hole with a slight shudder. it was the kind that settled right against your spot, curving perfectly, with a piece jutting out that nestled against your clit. it came with a remote control that minho tucked into his pocket with a smirk and a wicked glint in his eyes. 

he had kept you at a low buzz as he drove down roads, speeding through yellow lights and jerking at stop signs just to see your reaction. he was a good driver usually, so you knew he was doing this on purpose, the fucker. 

he turns it off when he parks at your destination, a busy market street that the two of you liked to frequent to window shop. he was kind to you when you were walking in public, only slipping his hand into his pocket when you got too comfortable with the sensation of the toy inside of you. you nearly forgot about it several times until he’d hit you with a series of quick buzzes that makes you stop in your tracks and press your legs together. you could feel wetness building in your core, dripping onto your underwear and you prayed that it wouldn’t start dripping down your thighs. as much as he would enjoy it, the thought of the sensation made you cringe in disgust. 

it’s only when you both return to the car in a secluded parking garage that he takes out the small remote and runs his fingers against the buttons. every time his nail catches on the button that raises the vibrations you tense up, but he repeats the motions again and again until you relax into the carseat. the click of a button echoes through the entire car when he finally presses it, and you’re embarrassingly close to coming from how on edge you’ve been for the past hour. 

he knows - of course he does. he knows you better than he knows himself, can read your body like it’s a worn out novel on his bedside table. he turns off the vibrator when you’re reaching the crest of your peak, and you’re left clenching around the toy as your high escapes you. you try to chase it but it runs faster than you can move your hips, and you collapse against the seat with a groan. 

“come here,” he pats his leg and pops back his seat as far as it can go, making room for you to fit between him and the steering wheel. the angry retort on your lips dies as you meet his eyes and see the possessiveness in them; he looks close to feral. you take a glance outside the windows to make sure that no one was outside before climbing over the central console, trying to climb into his lap. 

you want to be wrapped around him, you want to feel his comforting touch against every inch of your hypersensitive body, but he pulls you away when you try to press close. he pushes you to the side until you’re straddling just his thigh, and the hard muscle there pushes the toy closer to your clit and deeper inside of you. your dress falls to the sides, leaving your thighs touching the material of his jeans and your soaked underwear definitely staining them.

he turns on the vibrator again, pushing it to a higher setting than you’d been before, and the moan you let out was borderline pornographic. you don’t have time to feel embarrassed about it because he throws the remote into the cupholder and wraps his fingers around your hips in a tight grip. he pushes you back a bit before pulling you back into him, over and over until it clicks - he wants you to ride his thigh. in a public parking garage, where anyone could walk in and see your desperation and helplessness. the thought makes your entire body burn and you can’t help the way your hips jerk along with his movements. 

it’s absolutely euphoric, the way he’s gripping you in a way that will leave fingerprint shaped bruises on your skin paired with the vibrator buzzing against your clit and rumbling inside of you. you can’t think of anything other than the searing pleasure building up inside of you and you don’t realize that your eyes have fluttered shut until he moves one of his hands to grip your chin, keeping your gaze pinned on him. 

he looks wrecked just watching you, his lips parted and his eyes unblinking as he watches you fall apart. you come with a full body shudder, your eyes rolling back into your head as you lose your balance and fall into him. he keeps the vibrator on as you ride your way through your orgasm, and he wraps his arms around you as overstimulation starts to set in. you squirm, trying to escape the near painful pleasure sparking through your belly, but he keeps you pinned to him until you start to cry into his shoulder. 

you don’t see it, but you know he’s smiling at your cries; there’s nothing he loves more than bringing you to tears from pleasure. 

he turns it off after a few moments and your body melts against his, your limbs feeling like jelly and your head fuzzy like cotton. you bury your head into his neck, the collar of his jacket digging into your cheek and the smell of leather invading your senses. he strokes your back until your tears stop, whispering praises into your hair in between gentle kisses. when you gain some control of your body, you shift a little and you can feel the slick that’s collected between your legs. you wince and let out a little whine, and he shushes you and presses a final kiss to your forehead. 

“i’ll run you a bath when we get home, angel,” he promises. 

“mm,” you agree, nuzzling against him. “but i’m not moving for at least another ten minutes.” 

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

can i please request daryl dixon x reader set during the commonwealth era?

perhaps reader goes missing and carol and daryl go looking and when she’s found, they’re checking over her and “is that- a boot print?” on her back or something.

just bruised and her face is swollen too.

reader trying to remember what happened and being sad/frustrated that she can’t and daryl having to console her

I Get Knocked Down

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Violence, Flashbacks, Protective!Daryl

A/N. Hi Anon! It's been a while since I've seen the commonwealth era, and its one of the parts I haven't re-watched so I hope this does your request some amount of justice.

-

He shouldn’t have let her go, he tells himself through shallow breaths and panic, but it’s not like he’s stopped her doing anything the whole time they’ve been together; she’s gotten herself out of enough scrapes without his help for him to know how capable she is, so why would he have stopped her going for a walk to clear her head? It doesn’t help, because sure she doesn’t need him to protect her, but he blames himself for failing at it every time she so much as gets a scratch. It’s a horrifying, yet accurate look into his psyche.

Twelve hours. She’s been out for twelve hours, so he’s been filled with dread for roughly ten hours and forty-eight minutes, maybe forty-nine if he’s honest with himself. A walk, she’d said, just for some fresh air, his nature girl had said, his partner who’d never been at home within walls for too long, his love who’d been a barefoot hippie before everything went down, his wife who was gone for hours at a time when she’d found a good tree or a decent field, but she’d never, not ever vanish on him.

He sits at the kitchen table, perched on the uncomfortable chair he always insists on taking, so that she can have the comfortable one; the one she takes if she wakes first because she insists on the same for him. They’re two sides of the same, overly protective creature. He doesn’t the deserve comfort of the good chair right now.

She used to talk about a cabin, trace her thumb along his knuckles whilst talking about a wraparound porch. A little, quaint home near a lake with a scruffy dog and normal jobs, a dream of a life with him like she knew, without question, he’d have found her if the world never went to shit. The new apartment here is better than their old one, but their old one was better than the prison and the prison was better than out in the open.

He’d have been happy living in a shoebox in a highway in any world as long as he was with her, and now…for reasons he doesn’t know, he can’t find her at all.

He’d been out all night with Carol, listening to her continued insistence that they’d find her, trying not to listen when she insisted if anyone could, he could. They’d checked each gate, asked each guard, scoured past the slum apartments and the fancy houses, come up empty. Carol had taken the east side, searched through the hospital and the recreation ground, only to find nothing. Daryl had taken the square, starting at the library she loves so much and working his way, franticly, around the market. It was only Carols warm, consoling voice that made him return home when he wanted to fight his way through the gates to the outside. If she’d come home, he’d need to be there. So he sits, on the uncomfortable chair, failing at finding her and failing at giving her comfort and failing and failing and failing.

A loud, harsh knock on the door startles him out of his self-deprecation. It sounds again before he’s even left the kitchen. He moves slower these days, but he’s at the door and face to face with an out of breath Carol before he’s formed any coherent thoughts.

“I found her” She pants, forgoing her usual consideration for his hesitance around touch to grab his arm and squeeze. The look on his face must worry her, because she immediately adds “she’s alive”

“Stay ‘ere” He nods at Dog, who removes himself from Daryl’s side to hop up onto the couch, eyes finding Daryl the second he’s in his spot, forever obedient and loyal. Dog is more human than humans, these days.

He follows Carols quick pace, limp in his leg be damned, until they reach the back of the fire station. The grubby alleyway he’d already checked. He’s sure he already checked. Anxious blue eyes scan the alley for any sign of, well anything but she’s the only evidence of a struggle. She’s slumped against the wood fence, swollen and bloody, shivering without the jumper she’d taken with her the night before.

He's kneeling at her side before he’s registered he’s moved, hands hovering worriedly, afraid of hurting her. She murmurs but doesn’t open her eyes. Shallow, strained breaths match his own.

“is that- a boot print?” Carol asked, voice an octave lower than usual as she lifts the younger woman’s shirt up to reveal the horrible marked on her torso. His head snaps down so fast he’d have heard it click if he wasn’t so suddenly focused on the purple and yellow and painful bruise.

“Lemme see” He insists, gravelled voice low and sure. Carol lets go of the fabric gently, eyes flicking between the discoloured mark and Daryl’s face. His tenderness, his care, his concern comes as a shock to many people, but it never has to Carol. He’d go to the ends of the earth for the people he loves, burn it all to hell for the woman he loves, and Carol would be right there next to him as they tore the world down. It is no surprise that her heart breaks for the archer as his trembling fingers graze the distinct imprints of the sole of a boot whilst he checks her over.

She whimpers, trying to curl in on herself through the pain, bloodied fingers coming up to grip his bicep, seeking him out even if she’s unaware of it.

“’s okay, ’m here”

She looks up at him, flicks her unsteady gaze up to his face. He sees her blood-stained face and tear brimmed eyes clearly now. Her swollen split lip that trembles as her grip loosens. He’s so angry, so close to bursting with all consuming ire he can feel his hands shaking from it as he draws them away from her battered torso. He tries to keep it off his face when he looks at her, knows he’s failing as he feels it thrumming so heavily under his skin. Carol looks down at her once more, nodding at Daryl to pick her up now they know there’s no internal bleeding, now they know there’s no broken bones.

He should take her to the hospital, he knows he should, but she hasn’t been comfortable with the one here, hasn’t really been comfortable with a doctor since Denise, and whilst she likes Theo as a person, she’d never forgive Daryl if she woke up in a hospital and wasn’t on the brink of death. So, he carries her home, ignoring how fragile she feels in his arms.

He sets her up in their bed, hovering in the doorway every ten minutes until it looks like she’s stirring awake. It must have been at least a few hours, He picks at the skin of his thumb as he watches her slowly open her eyes, flexing her fingers against the warm fur of his beloved pup. There’s a brief moment of panic before she focuses on him, calming instantly in a way that would warm his heart in any other situation.  

Dog grumbles when Daryl asks him to move, whether refusing to leave her side or the comfortable mattress Daryl isn’t sure. For an animal who lived in the woods at the end of the world, dog does a remarkable imitation of a pampered house pet and he’s grown accustomed to a plush surface alarmingly fast. Still, the canine moves, dragging himself off the side of bed to stand guard by the bedroom door.  

Glass of water in hand, he tries not to jostle the bed too much as he sits, watching her wince as she tries to sit up a little.

“Hey” she rasps, coughing around a sandpaper dry throat. Her vision is blurred in one eye and the side of her waist hurts like a son of a bitch, but Daryl is warm next to her, worried eyes and tense shoulders but there.

“Ya gotta take a sip, Honey” his voice is low as he proffers the glass of cold water to her lips until she makes contact, swallowing heavily around a small gulp of it “There ya go, attagirl” he praises, a skill he has long since mastered.

“Thank you”

“Scared th’ shit outta me”

She sits taller suddenly, waving off his touch when her pained gasp ends in his large, firm, always reassuring hands hover above her. There’s a tinge of panic to her now clearer voice.

“Where are the kids?”

“Carol has ‘em”

“Are they okay? Are you okay?”

“…Yeah” he responds slowly, eyebrow raised in concern at her questions “Ya don’t remember what happened?”

She turns her head to the side like Dog does when he’s trying to understand what human language is. She could laugh at the fact her neck doesn’t hurt, thanks a god she doesn’t believe in for small, humorous mercies; I’m battered and bruised, but my neck is fine and Daryl Dixon is in my bed so take that world, I fight another day. She thinks hard, tries to recall anything.

“I was going for a walk?”

“Ya vanished, looked all night f’ ya, Carol found ya in th’ alley”

Her mouth forms a small, silent ‘oh’. She doesn’t remember an alleyway, doesn’t remember seeing Carol, though she knows Daryl wouldn’t lie to her. He never does about anything but his wellbeing.

“D’ya remember anythin’ else?”

She strains her mind, pictures herself walking about of their apartment, the fresh air hitting her face. A fist coming at her face, a metal wall, pain in her cheek, the kids eating breakfast no wait that can’t be right, a heavy shoe coming at her body, dog running around the park, pain everywhere.

“I can’t…I don’t…sorry” Lip wobbling, she lets out a frustrated sob, scared and confused and worried that her mind has betrayed her. He shushes her.

“S’alright, I ain’t mad at ya”

She’s letting the tears fall freely now, ignoring the way the salt stings her cut lip and focusing on the way his palm is running soothingly along her spine, the scent of cigarettes and musk.

"S'alright, I got ya"

There will be more time, for thinking, for remembering. There will be plenty of time because he won’t go anywhere, will never leave her and nobody can know anything in the damn apocalypse, but he knows they have time; he’ll stand at the gates of heaven or hell and refuse when his time is up, because he’ll always need more. he’ll When she remembers, because Daryl absolutely refuses to acknowledge that she might not, when she remembers, Carol beside him, Daryl Dixon is going to war.

[beetlejuicyy]

Payback

Part 1 • Part 2

Bebe Gang AU

Pairing: Gang member! Bada x reader

Synopsys: Bada takes you with her to a party. Her mistakes cost your safety as you're kidnapped by Wolf'Lo.

Warnings: none

Notes: im back!!! ive been wondering how to make this story more interesting so i hope you enjoy being kidnapped by chocol? hope you enjoy as always

Masterlist

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“That’s actually not as bad as I expected.” Bada sighed in relief when you came out of the room. She was lying down on your bed, scrolling through her phone while she waited for you to decide on what to wear.

“Do you mean I don’t know how to dress?” You asked. Still, you posed in front of her earning a wide and loving smile.

“No, I mean I thought you’d choose something more…” Bada waved her hand through the air as if searching for the word. “Racy? Is that a word?”

“So you thought I’d be a slut the very first time you actually include me in your mafia activities?” Bada rolled her eyes at you, as you checked your outfit in the mirror again.

“Don’t romanticize that.” She let the phone drop on the mattress as she walked behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and looking at both of your reflections in the mirror. “I just know that I have a gorgeous girlfriend.”

“I can’t kick your ass in laser tag in a cocktail dress after all.” You said.

Your girlfriend had been very spontaneous when she asked if you wanted to go with her to a chill get together at one of the guys’ house that night. They were going to get a special delivery of laser tag guns and it was gonna be fun, she promised. You were almost euphoric when you heard her. Somehow, it felt like Bada was being more serious about your relationship, since she was willing to bring you in the middle of her friends.

You were anxious though. In the back of your mind you couldn’t completely ignore the fact that some of those people were dangerous. Of course, not to you in particular since you were Bada’s plus one. The people she introduced you to were a few sweet girls that, between dancing classes, were buying and selling guns and weapons on the black market. Your girlfriend was the one administrating this whole deal, and it took you a bit of time to wrap your head around the idea that the very dance academy they were working at was basically a money laundering scheme.

When you finally arrived to the place, you were left speechless. Bada grinned as she was undoing her seat belt.

“Am I in a rich people drama?” You mumbled to yourself and she giggled because that had been her reaction too when she came for the first time. Now it was quite obvious that you were at the head of the gang’s house. Because it was more of a mansion. It made sense now, how they could play laser tag at home with that much space. You got out, anxious knowing you were about to meet so many new people. But you were happy because Bada would be next to you at all times.

The moment you got in you noticed how something in her attitude changed. Of course, you thought, around all these people she was something other than the sweet and playful girlfriend. From the moment you saw her outfit, black ripped jeans, a tight crop top, a black and white racer jacket and a black cap, you thought she looked cool. There were times when she would effortlessly look like a model no matter what she put on and your heart fluttered knowing you could call this gorgeous girl yours. But now, in a room full of guys with sleeve tattoos and girls who looked like they could beat those very guys up, Bada had a much more imposing posture and an ever cooler air to her. She greeted a lot of people, high-fived some, said a few jokes here and there as you were making your way to the kitchen. She introduced you to everyone you met on your way but you would forget the names as soon as another person would pop out of nowhere. Some people would play cards at a table, others would do shots or play on the gaming consoles. In a room to the right you saw a ping pong table. You tried your best not to look at them in an inappropriate way, knowing you’ve never been to this kind of big parties with this kind of people before. But, as Bada was pulling you by the hand through the people, you knew you looked like a confused deer in the headlights and it was obvious by the way some people would look at you from head to toe that they knew you were an outsider.

The kitchen was thankfully not as crowded, except for some people who would just come and go occasionally. The chairs around the kitchen table were missing so you looked around awkwardly, not knowing how you should sit or act. Bada crouched down, opening a cabinet and reaching out to grab a can of beer for each of you. It looked like it was a secret place, because she waited for two guys to lesbe the kitchen disappointed they didn’t find any more alcohol in the fridge. You hopped on the table, finding it a decent spot to sit, as she leaned against the counter in front of you. You gulped down the beer, realizing how refreshing it finally felt to lessen the tension in your body.

“Someone was thirsty.” Bada said, looking at you and it seemed that only now when you were sitting on that table she noticed how good those low waist cargo pants were hugging your hips. You noticed her eyes quietly taking their time, resting on your bare shoulders as you were wearing that off the shoulder T-shirt she loved on you.

“It’s your fault for looking like that.” You said and she grinned, coming closer to you. She leaned over you, her hands placed on the table at your sides supporting her weight.

“We just got here.” She said and the visor of her cap pushed against your forehead playfully.

“Are we interrupting something?” Lusher asked, obviously knowing the answer already. Bada pulled back and fixed the cap on her head with both hands and you looked the other way in embarrassment. The girls giggled and Bada leaned against the counter just like before, folding her arms in an awkward gesture. She was always close to her girls, you knew that much, but she would always get shy when they would see her crossing the intimacy boundaries with you.

As Lusher, Tatter and Sowoen walked into the kitchen you noticed they were wearing the same jacket as your girlfriend. They really looked like a gang from the movies now. They chatted with you for a while, making sure you felt comfortable and spilling some tea on the people around. You also found out from them that Minah, CheChe and Kyma were on their way to bring the main attraction of the night, the laser tag guns. It was on Bada’s orders, Tatter said, because she trusted them enough to let them deliver some real guns to another gang in the area on their own. They must have already finished the exchange and should have been on their way with the toy guns for the party. You looked at your girlfriend who was rather silent, enjoying to simply watch over her girls chatting. Bada was a very good leader for them, you thought.

Dragged by Sowoen, all of you went to play some games. She was very excited because, apparently, it was her first time at this kind of party too, although she was more laidback and carefree than you since she was familiar with most of the people. It was impressive to see how every time you got close to some group people would greet Bada first and immediately offer to make room for you or simply give up the game for your sake. It happened with Xbox, twice with ping pong and some guys rushed to bring more chairs for you around the table where they were playing cards, even if you were just watching. Lusher winked at you playfully almost like saying I-told-you-so without words. You’ll see how popular Bada unnie is. She had told you in the kitchen. More than popular, you were amazed by how respected she was. She would only decline the favors once, in a very cheerful tone, mostly because that was the polite way. However, they would insist and she would always find a place for you first, then sit right next to you. Now she was playing cards with a few guys and you were quietly sitting next to her.

Outside, you could see a group of people smoking something thicker than the usual cigarettes and you guessed it was cigars. Tatter had told you there was no reason to feel out of place here, after all a lot of people were coming with their plus one. Looking around, you noticed a few couples getting a bit too touchy. You saw two girls hurrying up the stairs holding hands to what you assumed would be a bedroom.

“I’ll go take some air.” You leaned to whisper in her Bada’s ear and she only nodded, looking very concentrated on the cards in her hands.

“I’ll finish here and I’ll come too.” She replied.

The night air was cold but refreshing after spending so much time around so many people. It was almost midnight when you checked the time on your phone and decided to stay on the terrace where those guys had smoked before leaving. You could see Bada through the window, although she didn’t know you were watching her. You saw Lusher walk towards one of the guys and grab him by the hand, cards falling from his sleeve. Your girlfriend slammed her cards against the table laughing. She took her cap off her head and brushed her fingers through her hair, a habit of hers that you found very sexy. As grateful as you were that she brought you there with her, you really wanted to go home and get laid. Or maybe there was an empty room for the two of you right there.

At some point you heard the engine of a car, then you saw Bada stand up and joyfully greet someone you couldn’t see. Now she wasn’t in your view anymore but you guessed that Minah, CheChe and Kyma were finally joining the party with the long awaited laser tag guns. The music was still loud and you had no idea what was happening but you knew your girlfriend would come for you when she was done, as she promised. Besides, it was such a pretty night and you rarely got to be outside this late.

“The party’s inside.” You heard an unfamiliar voice and realized you’ve been too lost looking at the stars. At an arm’s length away from you was a woman with orange toned hair and brown eyes piercing through yours.

“I was… taking some fresh air.” You said, startled. It was almost terrifying to you that she could get so close without you noticing.

“You’re not from here, are you now?” She asked, a grin curling at the side of her lips. She took one hand out of her pants’ pocket in a greeting gesture, closing in the distance between the two of you. “I’m Chocol.” Her voice was low and relaxed and for a moment you thought that you shouldn’t be talking to people without Bada around.

“I’m y/n.” Pressured by the social expectations or simply by Chocol’s persuasive look you took her hand and answered appropriately.

“You really are not from here.” She repeated, making your heart beat faster. You felt threatened for some reason, although her voice was gentle and she never showed any intention of harming you. From her reaction, you could tell that your choice to take her hand and introduce yourself was the wrong one.

“I haven’t seen you around either.” You said, although it didn’t mean much. She let go of your hand.

“There’s a lot of people here tonight.” She shrugged off your comment and you couldn’t argue. “Let me guess. You’re… someone’s plus one?” Chocol asked. A part of you wanted to run back inside. But she gave you no reason to – besides her pressuring stare as if trying to read your mind.

“Yeah I’m here with Bada.” It seemed like the safest thing to do in that moment. You had just witnessed how respected your girlfriend was amongst all those people. Dropping her name would be your easy way to get rid of this uncomfortable situation.

“Really?” She grinned. She was quite good looking, you thought. Your instincts were telling you something was off but if you thought about it she had done nothing wrong. Maybe you were exaggerating. “You should stick around her then.”

You only nodded in agreement, hoping the conversation would end here. Maybe you would both go inside. The music volume inside the house lowered all of a sudden. You found it odd.

“Who knows what alpha males started fighting now.” Chocol yawned, noticing you looked worried. “I wouldn’t go inside.” She said, as if she could read your mind. She seemed to know a lot of things, after all it was obvious she was part of this world.

But she also told you to stick around your girlfriend. You pondered on those words for a moment. It had been a while since you were out and Bada said she would be coming for you but she hadn’t. Now it looked like something was going on inside and maybe that was keeping her busy. You decided to look for her.

Just when you were taking your first step towards the door, you felt Chocol’s hand grab you by the wrist. The sound of a familiar hip hop song was gradually getting closer and louder as a car passed the front gates. Before you could react, Chocol had both your hands behind your back and a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t let out a sound.

“Sorry babe. You’re just collateral damage.” She said and, as your back pressed against her body, you felt the rough edges of the gun she had under her jacked.

***

Bada was growing bored with the game. Maybe it was more rewarding to have you by her side as she flexed her popularity and skills because ever since you went outside she wasn’t really into it anymore. Lusher noticed it and did her a favor by pointing out the obviously cheating player and everyone dropped their cards. A few words about the situation were exchanged and then she could finally join you. By the time she was ready to excuse herself, three girls came in, followed by two guys carrying a large and seemingly heavy container. People got excited, the main attraction of the night was finally here.

On her way to you, Bada decided to welcome her girls and congratulate them for their first independent deal. She was always with them, guiding and protecting especially the younger ones, but it was time to put her trust in them, although some unfriendly voices had told her it was too early. Minah was experienced enough, she argued, to take CheChe and Kyma and seal a simple deal. After all, the biggest advantage Bada’s girls had was that, looking at them, no one would think they were smuggling guns. On many occasions their innocent faces and charms fooled the police and mafia alike.

“Look who’s here!” Bada’s excited voice covered the noise as she opened her arms to welcome the three girls in a warm hug. She was proud of them and they started talking over each other about who they met, how everything went and how scary Minah looked when she was serious. They laughed together as the guys put the container on the floor with a loud thud and opened it. “What’s wrong?” Bada asked as the murmur of people grew quiet and the mood seemed to change around them.

“These are not laser tag guns.” One of the guys said. Stepping closer towards the box to see with her own eyes, she felt her heart stop for a moment, realizing what was going on.

“Girls?” She asked hesitantly but they were already next to her, wide eyes looking down at the container full of pistols. “What are these?” She asked, in a scolding tone. However, it was obvious that more than mad she was growing worried.

“It’s… the delivery for Wolf’Lo.” Minah said in a low voice.

“And what did you deliver?”

“If the real guns are here…” CheChe muttered but the pressure of everyone watching, witnessing a mistake like this was too pressuring to let her finish the sentence.

“Didn’t you open the container in front of them? Who picked them up?” Bada inquired. She had thought that it was an easy task, they never had issues with the girls from Wolf’Lo and besides she was friends with Yeni Cho, who assured her she would pick up the delivery. Everything was supposed to go smoothly, it should have been an opportunity for her youngest members to gain confidence and experience on their own.

“Yeni Cho said it’s not necessary… That she trusts us.” Minah answered.

“You’re supposed to do it no matter what.” Bada said between clenched teeth. “You just sold toy guns to one of the biggest and oldest mafia network in the country.” She knew she had to do some damage control. Give some calls, assure people it was a genuine mistake. Although, in this world, people rarely cared. She only prayed that Yeni had the sense to check the guns before taking them to her team. The music coming from the speakers was long paused. As she was pondering in silence on what was the best approach in the situation, the growing sound of a hip hop track signaled they had company.

“I’ll handle it.” Bada said when a few friends of hers showed their support, ready to fight if necessary. Things had to be clarified as calmly as possible.

She stormed outside the house with more people following behind, the sound of charging guns clicking alongside their steps. Bada was grateful that you were not there at the moment, you were safer this way.

A black SUV pulled up right in front of the house. It was indeed the source of the loud classic hip hop song that stopped once the engine of the car stopped as well. Bada’s fists clenched as three people got out of the car and walked towards them in an almost insultingly relaxed manner.

“Bada Lee, now you have the decency to show up.” The woman walking at the front said in a cocky tone. She had short bleached blonde hair and an annoyed grin. Behind her, a girl with brown hair and gentle features was standing awkwardly, a totally opposite attitude.

“You know it was a genuine mistake, Halo.” Bada said with a calm and conciliatory tone. Halo only clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Yeni, tell her.” She pleaded. The brown haired girl kept looking down at the ground, gulping in guilt.

“Where there’s respect there’s no room for mistakes.” The third person said, a tall lanky even more threatening woman than Halo although she was half a step behind her.

“Tell her, Yeni.” Halo said mockingly. “Isn’t Baby Sleek right? Where’s the respect?”

They were just three women in front of tens of people with Bada in the front but, besides Yeni, the other two didn’t seem scared or intimidated. On the contrary, the power dynamic was the opposite of their numbers, judging by their attitude.

“We have your guns. We can give them to you right away. This misunderstanding can be settled.” Bada tried not to let herself be intimidated. Underneath the visor of her cap her eyes were piercing directly into Halo’s eyes. The more you showed them your fears, the easier they won. That was the first lesson she learned on the streets.

“And how do you settle the moral damage this misunderstanding has brought on us?” Baby Sleek asked back. Halo only nodded in approval.

“You must know that it is a very humiliating gesture. You sent your kids to meet our people and didn’t even bother showing up. Are we that irrelevant to you, Bada?” Halo continued.

“No.” Bada had no choice but to play by their rules. “What’s your price?”

“Three times as many guns. And our money back.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Yeni muttered behind Halo. She had been silent all that time. A part of the fault was hers, she knew, but Halo would never admit that in front of outsiders.

“It is a bit unreasonable for our part.” Bada replied.

“We take what’s ours, even if you give it or not. Although, for the sake of our future business partnerships, it would be nice of you to comply.” Halo was close to mocking her now. Bada felt like her blood was about to explode in her veins. How was she supposed to find that many guns and cover their expenses?

“Halo, please.” She asked again, with a stern tone. “You know it can’t be done.”

“Not even for the sake of your pretty girl?” Another voice ringed in everyone’s ears. Turning to the side, Bada’s eyes widened and all her tough act vanished. There you were, with a gun to your head, a woman taller than you keeping your hands behind your back roughly. You looked terrified, you could hardly breathe, and when your eyes finally met hers tears started rolling down your cheeks.

“Let her go!” Bada yelled, taking a few steps in Chocol’s direction. In a instant, the gun at your head clicked, ready to shoot at the next pull. All the people behind Bada took out their guns and pointed them towards Chocol, and you, or towards the other three women. Halo only laughed, her posture still very much relaxed even with all those guns pointed at her. “Drop the guns, idiots!” Bada’s voice was loud and angry and desperate as she gestured to her friends without taking her eyes off you.

“Good choice.” Chocol said. She pushed you forward, forcing you to walk towards Halo and the others, passing unnecessarily close to Bada in your way. “Don’t worry.” The red haired woman said winking at your girlfriend. “I know how to treat pretty girls.”

It was impossible for her to stand still. Her fists ached for violence and she wouldn’t stop until you were safe back in her arms. But she didn’t have that luxury now. Tatter and Lusher had to forcefully hold her back for your sake, as Chocol pushed you to walk towards the car. Halo walked up to Bada until they were inches apart. Although she was significantly taller than Halo, the shorter woman was dominating as Bada kept on fighting to free herself from her friends’ grip.

“You have until dawn.” Halo said. “Three times the amount of guns and the money back in exchange for your little bitch. Let’s see how much you care about her.”

With that she turned around and walked back to the car, getting in the driver seat. Bada watched as the car got smaller and smaller as it drove off, and she fell to the ground when Lusher and Tatter finally let her go. She was crying and hitting her bare fists on the asphalt, as the mass of people behind her had already started making calls at midnight trying to find the amount of guns necessary until dawn.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Landlord!Ari + being caught watching you while you sleep

Well, it took me a couple of days but I did it!! Oh, and it's the longest drabble in the world. Did y'all know a drabble is only 100 words???? I thought it was 100-500...I still wrote way more than that, but still.

Title: No Good Deeds

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Summary: Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.

Prompt: Landlord!Ari + being caught watching you while you sleep

Warnings: age gap (Ari is mid-40s, Reader is early-20s), yandere Ari, drugging, non-con fingering (f receiving), non-con p-in-v intercourse, non-con creampie, choking, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: Hahahaha this was supposed to be a drabble. Thank you to @peyton-warren for the beta!

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

Moving out on your own isn’t exactly the easiest thing for you. You spent four years living in your college dormitory, but you always had at least one roommate. So, signing a lease and accepting the single set of keys was a huge accomplishment.

Your landlord, Mr. Levinson, is so great. He told you to call him Ari more than once. From the first tour of the apartment to the day of your move-in, he offers his help in many ways. Where the best farmer’s market is, how to reach him if you need any repairs, and even when the local bars close are just a few tidbits he leaves you with.

You get to know him a bit more during a block party one Saturday night. The two of you talk over cheap beer, tamales from Señora Cruz, smoked brisket from Mr. Lorenzo, and lasagna from Mrs. Di Paolo. Ari seems like he is lonely, and your kind heart can’t stand to see someone in need. 

Before you know what you are getting into, you agree to have a weekly tea date with him. It’s during one of those visits that you realize that something is a bit odd about Ari. He tries to cover up how he knows what cabinet you keep your tea in, but he makes up some dumb excuse that it would just be “the perfect spot”.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom as he busies himself with setting the tea, and when you come back, a steaming mug is waiting for you on a saucer on your coffee table. Usually, you make the tea, but Ari wanted to help out, and you had a long day at work, so you accepted.

“What is in this tea? It’s almost spicy,” you ask, taking another big gulp of the tea you don’t recognize.

“Is it spicy? Well, it does have ginger and cinnamon in it. Some chamomile, too. A little benzodiazepine in there,” Ari clambers on, trailing off at the end.

“D-did you say benzo…dia…zep,” you slur, reaching for Ari as you sit on the couch, but you end up passing out with your head in his lap.

When you come to, you struggle to remember what happened. Your heavy head pounds as you turn it to the side before putting the heel of your hand to your still-closed eyes.

“Take it slow, Bunny. You must’ve been really tired,” he consoles, from the other side of your bed.

“Mr. Levin-”

“Uhn uh. Call me Ari; no more of that Mr. Levinson polite shit, ok?” he swears for the first time in your presence.

“Um, Ari… What are you doing in my bedroom?” you ask, your mind a blank slate from earlier.

“Oh, Bunny. You invited me over for tea, and then you weren’t feeling well, and you asked me to stay until you felt better. Next thing I know, I’m carrying you in here because you fell asleep on me with that sweet little face of yours right in my lap,” he comforts, the knuckles of his hand sliding down your face before he boops your nose.

“Why do you keep calling me Bunny?” you mewl, still trying to get in control of all your limbs.

“When you sleep, you furrow your eyebrows and scrunch up your nose like a little bunny. It’s one of the cutest things you do,” he admires, his hand now moving down your neck and through the valley of your breasts to get to where your skirt rides up your thigh.

“Mr.-Ari…I think I feel better now; you don’t have to-” 

Your words are cut off when Ari reaches under your skirt, and you specifically remember having on panties earlier today, but his fingers are touching your tender pussy directly. Did he take off your underwear?

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Must’ve been all that time I spent rubbing your cute little cunt through those white cotton panties. God, those little moans you were making went straight to my cock, Bunny. Feel it,” he dares, grabbing your hand and resting it against the thick outline of his dick through his Wranglers. 

While your hand is on his length, he shoves two of his fingers into your wet heat. At first, you are surprised by the shock of it. But soon, you can tell that he knows how to work your body. You scream out his name, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he shoves one hand over your mouth and gets close to your ear.

“You’re not gonna ruin this for me. You have been parading yourself around here like you’re some holier-than-thou sweet little thing. And I knew you’d end up letting me smash at some point. But I didn’t wanna wait anymore, Bunny. You have had me wrapped around that little finger of yours since you moved in. It’s time that I get what’s owed to me-what you’ve been flaunting in front of me,” he sneers, pulling his fingers out of you and sucking them clean before opening his pants and pulling his dick out.

He lines up with your sodden core before thrusting in with no grace or elegance. Slamming himself inside your tight snatch for the first time feels like he is splitting you in two. You’re no virgin, but you also don’t have much casual sex, so Ari’s thickness was a shock, to say the least.

“Sweet Bunny, you’re so tight. What a good girl! You’ve been waiting for me like I’ve been waiting for you, huh? Fuck, you’re like a fucking vice. You hear that, Bunny? Hear how that cunt loves it when I fuck it? Love that loud, sloshy pussy,” he beams, his wide hips between your legs making your joints hurt.

You’re in stunned silence as Ari uses your body to chase his release. Your mind is bringing up all the times it seemed like he was getting a little too close for comfort. All the times when he would talk to you about his divorce, or his current dating trend, or the fact that he once told you that a pretty thing like you belonged locked up in a tower for a prince to come and free you.

Did he think he was a charming prince?

“Oh, Bunny, fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer. Look at me; wanna see your eyes when I cum inside you,” he blurts, holding your face in his hands as you look into his dilated, hungry eyes. “Take it. Just. Like. That.” The last few words are punctuated with thrusts as he paints your walls with thick, milky ropes.

Once he closes his eyes, his hips remain still, and his forehead meets yours. This would be almost romantic if Ari didn’t make it beyond creepy by whispering how perfect you are and peppering kisses all over your face. His softening cock finally slips free from you, and you are happy to be empty until you feel the flow of his semen leaking from you. He notices your discomfort and mocks your whines as he pushes his jizz back into your swollen hole.

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” he starts, moving off of you to recline next to you, “Not gonna leave this bed ‘til you’re knocked up. As soon as you are, I’m gonna move you in with me. You are gonna be well taken care of, too. You are so perfect-every little thing about you. And when the baby comes, we are gonna be the perfect little family. You wouldn’t wanna ruin our family, right? You’re gonna be a good girl for me, huh?” he implores, holding your cheeks in his hand so your lips poke out a bit.

You nod while tears stream from your eyes, finding it hard to form words. But what would you have said? He seems to like you mostly silent; you haven’t uttered a single word since before he was inside you. It wasn’t too late to try, but it was too late to have hope; at least that’s what you told yourself.

“I don’t know about you, but I am starting to get hard again just looking at you. On all fours for me, Bunny. I know you got it in you,” he orders, no kindness in his voice.

You quickly scramble to get on your hands and knees for him and are happy that he is pleased with your speed. As he slides into your sensitive folds again, you grimace but hold in your noises of pain. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you hurt, even though what he is doing is traumatizing. He relishes in the gushy sounds your pairing makes and the mighty “oomph” you make when he wraps an arm around your neck and flattens you down to your belly.

He has you in a chokehold while his hips canter back and forth, plunging his length deeper and deeper inside you. When he hears you start to sputter and gulp in air, he removes his arm from around your neck and holds your face cheek-down on the bed.

“Look at her, taking my cock just like she should. You’ll be the prettiest little wife and mother, won’t you? Gonna keep you nice and round as much as I can. My perfect little Bunny…ugh, fuck,” he blurts, his release surprising him suddenly.

When he pulls out, he smacks your ass and lays down next to you while your life flashes before your eyes. He moves closer to you, readjusting your body to lay on top of his as he rubs your back. He kisses the top of your head in such a kind gesture that you feel your eyes stinging with unshed tears. 

You can’t even bring yourself to fully cry, the tears streaming down your face just to splash on Ari’s denim shirt. Forgotten and dried up to never be seen again.

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble!!!!

**Tag List**

I also didn't know who to tag since this is the first time I wrote Ari.

[mangowillow]

perhaps love

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader

summary: for as long as you can remember, you have been in love with your childhood friend turned roommate, but jeon jungkook remains oblivious even when he comes to comfort and help you sleep every night.

genre/tags: fluff, friends to lovers, unrequited love, angst, hurt & comfort, mentions of drinking & insomnia

word count: 12.5 k

a/n: no matter how many times i tear this story down, it will always come back swinging. perhaps love was the very first fic i wrote for the fandom and this story means a ton.

For as long as you could remember, you had loved Jungkook with all of your heart.

But the reality is, love seemed out of reach, a far stretch. Not when Jungkook was first and foremost your best friend.

The whole apartment was surrounded by darkness, except for the pure moonlight that seeped through your bedroom window. Your room was your favorite place in the world-- away from everyone, just you and the stillness. You had really bad sleeping habits and your insomnia has gotten worse over time. You tried everything to fall asleep, including hot showers and scented candles. Nothing worked… except for Jungkook.

Jungkook usually played games into the night as his own way to unwind from the stress of being one of the most sought-after graphic artists. When he’s not holding the console, he’s nose deep into his computer or tablet, illustrating his next commission. He just submitted his drafts for his latest client’s marketing kit a few hours prior so he could afford to while away his time tonight. He walked to the kitchen to grab another can of beer when he saw your bedroom door slightly ajar. He padded his way through the hall and leaned against the doorframe, watching your peaceful expression

“Can’t sleep?”

You turned your head in the direction of the bedroom door. Jungkook’s gentle voice that echoed through the quiet of their shared apartment was his other favorite place in the world. 

“It’s always hard.”

Jungkook pushed the door further and went inside. You two had been living together for almost two years and Jungkook already knew the layout of the space like the back of his hand. He set the unopened beer can on the bedside table and went under the duvet with you. It had always been this simple-- it was either Jungkook grabbed an extra beer can and share it with you or coaxed you to sleep entirely. Tonight, it was the latter. Jungkook ran a hand up and down your back.

You felt a pang inside your chest. It was barely there but still felt. Tonight was different, lonelier. You closed your eyes, thinking that maybe this was just how it had to be.

“Tell me what you need,” Jungkook muttered.

“Gguk…” you started. Jungkook hummed, ever so kind, so patient. “Can you help me sleep?”

Years of friendship made words between you comfortable and safe. Your insomnia started right around the time your dance studio was gaining more enrollees and by the end of a year, you already needed to hire a few more dancers and bigger studio space. Jungkook was there to witness all your hard work, sleepless nights trying to perfect a routine you had to teach every week. Jungkook was there to help you through the breakdowns and occasionally had to endure your spats, to which you apologized for with ramen and kimbap. 

You and Jungkook go way back, but tonight it’s just the two of you and your shared present. Jungkook helped you lay down on the bed and your heart swelled . Jungkook lay on his side as he gently guided you to face him. In the calm of the night, you saw stars in Jungkook’s eyes. You willed yourself not to speak for fear of breaking the moment. Jungkook started to caress your cheek ever so lightly, eyes falling close as you reveled in the softness of how Jungkook took care of you. As Jungkook continued to comfort you, he started singing your favorite sleep song.

now playing: watch you sleep. by girl in red

Jungkook’s melodious voice rang through the room with much reverence. You both find yourselves busy in life, but you always, always come back home to each other-- and that thought makes your heart ache so much more. Tonight might be lonely, but you also treasured moments like this when you allowed yourself to surrender, to take pleasure in being with Jungkook. By the time he finished the song, you were already fighting to stay awake.

I want to be with you for longer.  

“What about your game, Gguk?”

“I will play another round before I go to bed. Right now, you’re more important.” Jungkook tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll stay with you for as long as you need me to.”

“Gguk-ah.”

A smirk found its way into Jungkook’s pretty lips. He knew what was coming next.

“Can you stay?”

It felt like the whole room stilled ten times over.

“I mean… just for tonight,” you quickly added, worried you might’ve said the wrong thing too late.

Jungkook gently got up from the bed and walked out the door, leaving you to wonder if you messed up. Yeah, you did , you thought. Was it that easy to mess things up? Was Jungkook really that uninterested? As you listened to Jungkook’s footsteps, you also heard the gameplay music coming from the living room abruptly stop. A few objects were heard being moved around until Jungkook’s footsteps once again became louder. 

Jungkook said nothing as he closed the door to your bedroom, his weight sinking into the other side of the bed. 

Oh, he came back, your mind dumbly said.

It was always familiar, that feeling of Jungkook being too close. You wished it never had to end. Jungkook slid an arm under you and the other caged you in closer to his chest. He dropped a light kiss to the top of your head and picked up where his hands left off— grazing your spine. 

“Are you cold?”

You swore you heard Jungkook smile through his words.

“No. The duvet can cover us both, I think.”

“Hmm. I’ll hold you through the night in case the duvet falls.” 

Jungkook placed another feathery kiss on your forehead. A few seconds seemed to have passed with nothing but comfortable silence, two hearts beating for one another.

“Goodnight, Jungkook.” 

You felt Jungkook’s hold on you grow tighter.

“Goodnight, ____.” 

The morning after was both the easiest and hardest thing you had to face because it was either you woke up to Jungkook still peacefully sleeping beside you or to an already empty bedside. 

This time around, Jungkook was already awake and smiling.

Smiling.

You thought it to be so endearing and cruel of him at the same time. Jungkook never watched you sleep before. 

Chuckling probably because he saw your wide eyes, he asked, “Did you sleep well?”

You shifted before nodding with a small smile. “How about you?”

“Like a baby.”

You chuckled too as he yawned and stretched. You’re so beautiful like this.

“What do you want for breakfast, ___?”

“Do we still have eggs?”

Jungkook nodded, “and bacon, too.”

“Ugh, heaven on earth. I’ll have both, please.”

Jungkook smiled warmly like he was the soft morning light himself, “I’ll whip us some pancakes, too.”

You nodded, yawning a second time. You got up to brush your teeth and do the usual morning skincare routine. As you stared at yourself through the mirror, you thought about how you could feel so content living with Jungkook like this— peaceful with endless possibilities. 

You realized your love for Jungkook on a rainy day when both of you were supposed to try and fly the kites you made over Gwangalli beach in Busan. You remember feeling bummed out because Jungkook put so much hard work into making those kites, only to be destroyed by a sudden downpour. You’d expected Jungkook to be upset as well, but to your surprise, Jungkook pulled you into the pouring rain to dance. He always did that. You thought he was crazy for doing so, but you went along with your fifteen-year-old friend’s absurd idea. 

It was a good thing you let yourself be pulled into pouring rain by Jeon Jungkook… because from then on, your love for him just grew. Blossomed like the spring flowers on a cool afternoon.

You were pulled out from your memories when you heard a phone ring. You quickly finished combing your hair and went out of the room, feeling hopeful about breakfast.

“...hyeong, I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”

It was Jungkook speaking to someone on the other end of the line. He had his AirPods on as he waited for the bacon to turn crispy— just the way you liked it. You sat down across from Jungkook on the kitchen counter and he gave you a small smile, even though his eyebrows were furrowed.

“Okay, fine, fine, I’ll go… I’ll see you later.” Jungkook tapped the right AirPod twice, ending the call. You could tell something was off. 

“Everything okay?”

Jungkook didn’t answer right away as he transferred the bacon onto a plate with paper towels. “Yeah, that was Yoongi hyeong”

“Oh great, are you guys meeting up later?” You tried to make light of the situation, but could already feel the other shoe was about to drop.

You’ve always had that lingering anxiety at the pit of your stomach whenever you were with Jungkook. It co-exists, always present as your love for him. It’s the product of a love unreciprocated.

Jungkook hummed, too concentrated on the eggs in front of him. “Hyeong set me up on a date with someone.”

“Oh…”

Jungkook kept his head down as he cooked, but you didn’t miss how he looked up briefly at you the moment the small surprise left your lips.

“That’s great, Jungkook. Isn’t it? It’s about time you tried dating again.” 

The morning was already starting to crumble right before you could even get through breakfast.

“Yeah, I… I think it’d be fun. I’ll see how it goes.”

You have seen Jungkook’s fair share of dating experiences over the course of your friendship. He never brought anyone home to your apartment, but you almost always witnessed how fleeting his dates were. It wasn’t as if Jungkook didn’t like them, it’s just that he prioritized his work more than the possibility of finding love. The last one Jungkook dated was like a tornado in human form. You remembered how happy he always seemed to be after their dates. He’d tell you about how she made him want to come out of his shell more and that maybe, just maybe she could be the one. You were happy for his best friend then, you always were. But you were also heartbroken seeing your childhood love date other people, let alone look at them differently. You had only met the girl once— and you immediately understood why Jungkook liked her. Kind, charming, and passionate about art and life. An advocate for women’s rights, a cat lover. 

Everything that you didn’t seem to be.

You don’t know how the relationship ended, though. That’s the thing about Jungkook— with you, he was magic and light, wild and full of compassion, but when it came to sharing his feelings, he always had a hard time expressing them. You are as patient as ever though, never pushing Jungkook to emotional places where he didn’t want to be. 

You will always wait for Jungkook. But is it worth it?

“You should really get out of the house, Jungkook. Go and have fun. Your art will be waiting for you here at home,” you tried to smile as Jungkook handed you your breakfast request.

“You sound like you really want me out of the house, ____.” Jungkook teased.

You dramatically sighed, threw in a slight roll of your eyes for good measure, “I just want what’s best for you. You know that.”

“I always know, ____.” 

You will always look out for him. Love him from afar. You will always choose your best friend. You could only wish that Jungkook would choose you, too.

You definitely felt like an idiot waiting up for Jungkook.

You liked to tell yourself that Jungkook’s mystery date didn’t bother you at all, but being alone in the apartment on your day off didn’t help much because you thought about the said date all day long. 

Here’s the problem: You didn’t know you were so bothered.

Well, you, knew why… in a way. But you didn’t like admitting it to yourself because it becomes so much clearer. Jungkook has always been a constant in your life, a friend through thick and thin-- but that’s the issue. Jungkook is a friend.

You heard faint footsteps becoming louder until someone was punching the code to unlock the door— Jungkook was home. You quickly glanced at the clock. It was only 9 pm. He’s home early, isn’t he? What does coming home early or late from a date even mean ? You shook your head rapidly, willing the ridiculous questions away when the familiar melody of the door successfully unlocking rang through the room, and in came Jungkook. You repositioned yourself at lightning speed, pretended to watch TV, and only looked up when Jungkook came into view.

“Hey. How did your date go?” Your eyes flitted back to the screen in front of you, feigning indifference.

Jungkook plopped next to you on the couch and stretched his legs, “T’was good.”

Turning your body to face Jungkook you asked, “How good is good?”

Jungkook chuckled as he intertwined his fingers behind his neck. He didn’t pry his eyes away from the TV, which was showing a variety show about refrigerators.

“We had dinner. Mia was a nice girl, very polite.”

Ah, so the name was Mia. You slowly nodded before tilting your head to the side, revealing a small smirk, “did you have fun at least?”

“I guess it was alright. You know how awkward blind dates make me feel.”

“What makes them awkward again?”

“I’m not sure exactly… It's like I just don’t know how to act around them, let alone know what to say. It’s��� I’m not even sure if she had a good time, to be honest.”

“Well, I’m sure he had a good time,” you turned your attention back to the TV but muted the volume. Why was there a face towel inside one of the refrigerators? 

“What makes you so sure, ____?”

You shrugged, “You’re pretty amazing Jungkook. Funny, smart, very attuned to others. I think you just don’t see it because, you know, it’s you.”

Jungkook pursed his lips. The momentary silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Why are you still up, ____?” Jungkook suddenly murmured. He was still facing the TV, but he had his eyes closed.

You suddenly felt a need to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. When you didn’t respond, Jungkook opened his eyes and turned to face you. “Do you need help sleeping, ____?”

“I really shouldn’t ask for too much, Jungkook. It must be uncomfortable not sleeping in your own bed.”

Jungkook gently flicked a finger at your forehead. You feigned hurt.

“Silly. Come on, let’s get ready for bed. It’s getting late and you have an early class tomorrow, right?” You didn’t even know he remembered your schedule. You let Jungkook pull you by the wrist, leading the way to your bedroom.

Like coming home, you slotted yourself comfortably in between Jungkook’s waiting arms as you both lay in bed. Jungkook rested his chin on top of your head and breathed in your soft, powdery scent. You instantly felt Jungkook relax, all tension starting to ebb away, but maybe it was all just in your head.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook. I just… I don’t know, I have a long day tomorrow and I need to sleep.”

Jungkook adjusted himself in a way to give you some wiggle room but still held you close. “You don’t have to apologize. I completely understand how pressured you must feel, especially because the dance studio is going through big transitions.”

In your mind, you were thinking of all the ways you and Jungkook just clicked . But there’s that tiny part of you that feels that maybe this arrangement wasn’t the most ideal because for all you knew, Mia might just be a really great girl and Jungkook just needed time to warm up to her. Having Jungkook this close was your dream-- a dream you’ve always kept safe in the recesses of your mind. Now that it’s actually happening— and that it’s been happening for a while now— you crave this closeness more and more and yet, you also feel guilty because you needed to run in the opposite direction. Before things got too painful.

“I can hear you thinking.”

Your body went stiff so Jungkook pulled you much closer as he ran a hand through your hair. He looked at you, eyes soft and half-lidded, your faces too close you felt like something else was going to happen.

But nothing ever happened. Of course. 

He held your gaze a bit longer and you wanted to tell him the truth. Tell him to look at you just this once. But words failed you once more.

“Thank you, Gguk.”

Not a lot of words need to be exchanged. You have been friends for so long that almost all your movements and emotions, no matter how subtle, were easily discernible. You know when Jungkook is having one of his creative blocks because he becomes irritable. Jungkook knows that you can sometimes be too hard on yourself when it comes to dancing, so he cooks your favorite bibimbap as a way to ease his stress. You and Jungkook just know how to comfort one another.

“My silly darling,” He never called you that before, but you could almost hear Jungkook smile as he uttered it. “I want to be here.”

If your heart suddenly stopped, you hoped Jungkook didn’t notice. I want to be here, he said. With a languid smile on your tired face, you succumbed to the pull of sleep, hoping your dreams about Jungkook would never end.

“You already picked the last movie, ____.”

“Fine, we can watch one of yours.”

Jungkook’s bunny smile reappeared and your heart grew ten times its size. After eating dinner, you both decided to watch a movie. After all, it was a Friday night and neither of you had the energy to spend it outside with other people. You watched as Jungkook flicked through the movie choices until he finally settled on a Marvel movie. 

You were already halfway through the movie when the doorbell rang. You and Jungkook looked at each other, both of you surprised because you weren’t expecting anyone at this late hour. As you shrugged your shoulders, Jungkook got up to answer the door.

You decided to pause the movie because you didn’t want Jungkook to miss anything, but doing so made it clear that the sudden visitor was actually Yoongi.

The location of the door wasn’t too far off from where you were sitting. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop either, but you couldn’t help but wonder why Jungkook didn't let Yoongi in.

“Mia told me about your date. I don’t understand, Jungkook, you both said you had a great time, so what’s the problem?”

Oh, they were talking about Jungkook’s date. At this hour?

“I don’t know, hyeong. I guess it never occurred to me to call her so quickly after a first date. Did you come all the way here just to ask that?” Jungkook was a fairly mellow person. Almost never irritable with anyone but himself, just very patient even when you could see how other people were already pushing his buttons.

“I think Mia really likes you, Gguk-ah. You should call her. I also came by to bring you back some of your art supples because you left them at the studio yesterday.”

You heard plastic rustling. Jungkook didn’t answer right away, not until his voice lowered, almost sounding like he was pleading.

“Let me think about it, hyeong. Please?”

Yoongi sounded a bit exasperated, “Fine. How’s ____?”

“She’s fine. We were actually watching a movie,” Jungkook was back to his usual tone of voice, but clipper. 

“Oh, that’s nice…”

“Would you like to join us? We still have a beer in the fridge, I think.”

“No, I just… I was just about to go home and thought I’d stop by to give you your things because I already had them in the car, but uh— yeah. Maybe some other time.”

It didn’t register with you right away that Jungkook had Mia’s number. Whether Jungkook asked for it or the other way around, they still exchanged numbers. There was a chance of a second date. You didn’t notice the lump forming in your throat as you came to realize again that Jungkook wasn’t yours. You had no right to think this way about Jungkook and his love life. He lives his own life, free to date anyone, anytime. 

You weren’t supposed to hear this conversation either. The feeling of impending dread slowly crept up on you. All you knew was that whatever you were feeling right now is something that shouldn’t even be happening.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you saw Jungkook return from the corner of his eye. You suddenly lost all strength to continue the movie. Without even thinking, you pulled yourself up to your feet with the intention of going back to your room. Maybe sleep would do something to dull the ache.

But then you remembered you had a hard time doing that, too.

Jungkook opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. You held out hope for a minute there— hope that maybe Jungkook would tell you he was sorry, but then again, what would he be sorry for? He shouldn’t feel sorry for anything, especially not your feelings. 

The sadness was starting to fester through your bones again. You had to get out of the living room, away from the one person who could make you feel better. Wordlessly, you let your feet take you to the bedroom and quietly shut the door. 

Jungkook never tried to pry nor force you to explain anything to him. He was always the understanding one, always the one who gave you your space when you needed it, even when you were being cold to him.

That’s the thing with Jungkook— he knew exactly when to be there for you. Except for this time around, not even Jungkook’s presence can heal an unknown emptiness that you don’t even recognize yourself.

Nine-year-old you never really liked the first few hours after school because that meant you had to stay and wait until your mom picked you up. School grounds can get pretty lonely, especially when all the other kids have already gone home. Young as you were, you found it funny that both you and your mom ended up closing shop every day— you closing school grounds, while your mom closed the register at the grocery store where she worked. 

What nine-year-old you hated the most was when you had to wait after school while it rained because you couldn’t walk around the courtyard and play. 

You hugged your knees as you rocked yourself back and forth watching the rain splatter on the cold, hard ground. Of all days, you forgot to bring a jacket and you were starting to shiver. It was only four o’clock in the afternoon. Your mom wouldn’t arrive until six. 

Just after you let out a big sigh, a boy came running in your direction carrying an umbrella. Strange. No one but you usually stayed at school this late. 

When the boy reached the stairs and closed his umbrella, he shook off excess water from his already wet hair, causing a few droplets to splatter all over your face.

“Oops, sorry about that.”

The boy gave you his widest smile as he continued to catch his breath from running too fast. You usually saw this boy walk along the school hallways, always surrounded by his friends. You were also clubmates in dance.

“My name’s Jungkook. We go to dance club together.”

“I know...” You replied as you rested your chin on top of your knees again.

“You dance really well, I wish I could be as graceful as you… anyway, what are you still doing here?” 

“I’m waiting for my mom. She usually picks me up, but she has to finish her job at the store first.”

“Oh, okay. How long do you still have to wait for her?”

“Probably a few more hours,” you didn’t mean for your tone to be somber, but you couldn’t help it. 

As much as you love your parents, sometimes it can get quite lonely.

“That might take forever!” Jungkook’s eyes grew wide but you found it amusing. Most people would just say ‘oh’ and move on. Or maybe pity you.

“It’s no big deal, I’m used to it already.”

“Well, do you want to grab something to eat first?”

While you knew Jungkook meant no harm, you still wondered why he was offering all of a sudden. What was he even doing here?

“I don’t think—”

“My driver Mr. Hong-sik is parked right outside near a hotteok stand. Let’s go buy some!”

You hesitated because you weren’t supposed to leave the school grounds until an adult came to pick you up but at the same time, you were really hungry. 

“What do you say?”

“Do you promise that we will go back here after buying?”

Jungkook was already nodding, his smile growing wide again upon hearing the possibility of you giving in to the idea of hot hotteok. 

“Yes, of course. Mr. Hong-sik will take care of us, don’t worry. Besides—” Jungkook opened his umbrella, droplets of rain splattered across your face again, “—this umbrella is big enough to fit us both.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

It would only be years later when Jungkook admitted to you that he had known for a while how you spent your days alone after school and that he wanted to keep you company. 

When you were seventeen and Jungkook fifteen, the school dance team won an award. You both celebrated by eating ramen and ice cream at your mother’s grocery store. 

When you and Jungkook went to college, you decided to share a room together because you both got into SNU. Over the years mishaps had happened, you both cringed at each other’s disaster dates, and cried when you had your hearts broken by careless people. Through the highs and lows of life and love, you and Jungkook were a team. 

Now that you are twenty-six and Jungkook twenty-four, you continue to conquer the world together.

Except that you never expected to slowly fall for the boy who accidentally splattered water on your face twice and shared his umbrella.  

“Yah— stop eating all of the danmuji!” Taehyung playfully snapped as he chewed on his jajangmyeon. 

“I already told you to order extra, but of course, you didn’t listen again,” you replied, happily chewing on the kimchi.

“I totally forgot, okay? Let me breathe,” Taehyung pouted. “It’s not every day when little kids come into the studio and wreak havoc during hip hop class.” You chuckled at your best friend’s whining and placed a piece of danmuji on top of his noodles. Taehyung looked to you and mumbled his thanks.

You were sitting with your legs sprawled out on the dance floor of the dance studio. Both of you just finished your separate intensive classes and were fueling up for the next set this afternoon.

“I heard Jungkook went out on a date,” Taehyung isn’t really one for dilly-dallying. Always straight to the point. 

“Yoongi told you, huh?”

“Of course. The man could never hide secrets from me. Not in our household.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Jungkook did go on a date,” you didn’t like where the conversation was going, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop Taehyung from asking further either. A part of you wanted to talk about it with someone. 

“And how do you feel about that?” Taehyung shoved a piece of kimchi onto his mouth and waited for your answer.

You started to re-arrange the toppings on your plate, trying to avoid eye contact all of a sudden, “what do you mean?”

“I know you, ____. You can’t hide from me.”

You chuckled at your best friend’s blunt nature. It’s one of the things you liked most about him because you were the opposite— always caring, understanding, nice. You put others first before yourself because that’s who you are— the reliable friend. You know Taehyung means well and is just looking out for you, too.

“Do I have to answer your question?”

“You don’t have to, but I can tell it’s bothering you. You didn’t even notice that I took the last piece of chicken just now—”

“YAH!”

Taehyung snickered, “But seriously, you’re quiet than usual. Does he still help you sleep?”

“He does.”

“And he hasn’t said anything beyond that?”

“What is he supposed to say?”

Taehyung shrugged, “You tell me.”

“We’re friends, Taehyung. There’s nothing else to say” You let your shoulders sag. You’re surprised at yourself that you’ve been holding the tension in. 

“After everything—” Taehyung paused and bit his bottom lip, trying to carefully choose what to say next, “Did it ever occur to you that maybe the reason why he volunteers to help you sleep is that he likes you too?”

“Stop putting ideas into my head.”

“I’m not, but I do want to point out what you can’t see, ____. I’m your best friend— Jungkook is, too, but with us it’s different. I don’t feel the urge to jump you every so often, ah!---” Taehyung earned a playful smack from you, “Look, all I’m saying is… you and Jungkook have been friends for a really long time so why don’t you just talk to him?”

You started to argue, “It’s not that easy. It might ruin our friendship.”

“But how else are you going to get past this?”

“Take my feelings to the grave,” you expressed glumly.

“So dramatic. And very, very difficult for you to bear all on your own.”

“I’m scared, Taehyung. What if things become awkward?”

“Will Jungkook really let it come to that? He’s your best friend. If he says he doesn’t feel the same way, the more important thing here is you. You and your heart— because at least in knowing, you can finally move forward. Date other people without the what ifs.”

You seemed to mull over Taehyung’s words. 

“I’m not forcing you to ask him. At the end of the day, you get to decide. I just want you to be happy, ____. Always.”

“I know, Taehyung-ie. Thank you.”

You came home that night to Jungkook passed out from exhaustion on their couch. He still had his eyeglasses on, his apple pencil caught in between his fingers. His iPad was on top of the coffee table and you assumed that Jungkook rushed yet again another commission for a client. It was still early— 8 o’ clock. You wondered if Jungkook had already eaten. You draped a blanket over him and adjusted his head on one of the pillows into a more comfortable position. The movement slightly jostled Jungkook awake. With half-lidded eyes, he gave you a sleepy smile.

“Hi ____, you’re home.”

“Hmm, I am.”

“How was class today?”

“Excellent. Did you get to finish that commission?”

Jungkook yawned, “Barely... ”

You reluctantly caressed Jungkook hair, fingers gently rubbing his scalp. As soon as you did, his eyes fell closed. 

“Have you eaten, Gguk-ah?”

“Not yet. I was waiting for you.”

“You didn’t have to. What if I came home really late? You can’t miss your meals.”

“You’re here now, aren’t you?”

You chuckled as he mumbled, “Brat. I’ll whip us up some kimchi kimbap and ramen. How does that sound?”

“I’d love that, thank you.”

“You can sleep more. I’ll wake you up when dinner’s ready.”

“I can help you—”

“Stay put. I’ll be quick, okay?”

Jungkook nodded as he watched you disappear into the kitchen. You prepared all the supplies needed to make dinner and as soon as you started chopping the kimchi for the kimbap, you heard Jungkook’s soft snores. 

Suddenly, all of your fears ebbed away. Emotions were a funny thing— the fondness you had for Jungkook overtook your whole being everytime you looked at him. Sometimes you want to feel angry at how Jungkook seemed oblivious, but then again… he isn’t really a mind-reader. You have always been affectionate with each other and you wondered where people drew the line between friendship and love. What happens when one catches feelings? What happens to both of you if a confession was the way to settle things once and for all? The stakes were too high— confessing your feelings for Jungkook might make him pull away. What happens to the friendship built over the years? If you were lucky, maybe Jungkook might love you, too.

You were in a bind and you didn’t like that.

Jungkook slept on the living room couch, tired from the day’s work. You both make meals for each other. You sleep together on the same bed. Shouldn’t life with Jungkook be this easy? 

And obvious?

After twenty minutes, dinner was ready. You woke Jungkook up and he devoured the simple dinner over stories of your classes and his ideas for the client’s project. 

This friendship is simple. Light. It is a life well lived between two childhood friends that began with a shared an umbrella and hotteok. You wished it was always this uncomplicated. 

Jungkook helped you sleep again that night. Not a lot of words were shared because you were honestly exhausted and just when you thought you didn’t need cuddles, Jungkook went into your room and laid on your bed, not uttering a single word. He only wrapped his arms around you and breathed in your cotton scent. 

“You’re always helping me, Jungkook.”

“Is it working? Are you sleeping well?”

“I am, thanks to you.”

“I’m glad. I’m really glad, ____.”

All is right in this world, all is well with us this way, you thought before you gave in to the pull of sleep for another night. 

You woke up to the sunlight and an empty bed. Muffled sounds could be heard from outside the bedroom.

“Mia’s kind of annoyed that she gave you his number but you still haven’t called her”

“I know.”

“Is this about ____? Is that why you haven’t—”

“I don’t know, hyeong, it’s too early to have this conversation.”

Yoongi came into view as soon as you reached the kitchen. His back was turned to you and it seemed like he was cooking pancakes. Jungkook was sitting on the stool by the counter and had his back to you. 

“Oh, good morning, ____,” Yoongi chimed.

“Good morning.”

Jungkook poured you a glass of orange juice, “Slept well?”

You didn’t have your words yet so you just nodded. Even with Yoongi busy with the stove, you felt the tension that made itself known so suddenly around the kitchen.

And for some reason, Jungkook decided to throw out the trash, leaving you and Yoongi alone for a while.

“How are you, ____” Yoongi asked as he gave you a serving of pancakes, egg, and bacon. The last thing you expected was to wake up to breakfast prepared by a visitor sprinkled with passive confrontation.

You sipped his orange juice again before replying, “I’m doing well. Dance classes are picking up.”

“I’m glad… and Jungkook?”

“What do you mean?”

“How is Jungkook… and you?”

It was way too early for this conversation.

“I need you to be a bit more specific about what you really want to ask me, Yoongi.”

Yoongi was met with an almost deafening silence. You knew that apart from him, Jungkook confided in Yoongi the most. He knew most of Jungkook’s dating escapades and with that, his heart aches too. Yoongi is Jungkook’s fiercest protector, you are well-aware. You understand how he tends to be confrontational especially when it came to Jungkook’s feelings. 

Because they go way back.

In all honesty, you were terrified of Yoongi knowing about how Jungkook had been helping you sleep, but you didn’t know why you were scared. Yoongi is your friend too, after all. 

Maybe because you wanted to keep such intimate moments with Jungkook for yourself. Something that was yours, and yours alone. Unfortunately, you had a gut feeling Yoongi knows a lot more than he’s letting on.

“Jungkook just started dating again, ____.”

“I’m all too aware. I don’t think I’m going to be a problem.”

“It might be if Jungkook helps you sleep every night.”

And there it is.

“We’re just friends, Yoongi. I’m not expecting anything from him.” You felt your heart sink to your feet, trampled on. Yoongi knew. 

But why was frustration rising up in the back of your throat?

“Are you sure you’re not expecting anything?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Tension, tension, tension. You hated it.

“You had your chance once, ____, and you walked away. It’s not fair for you to do this to Jungkook again.”

And there it is. The word again .

You swallowed the lump in your throat, lightly tapping the glass of juice with your fingers, willing for the tears to retreat back to where they came from. You cannot afford to cry in front of Yoongi. Or Jungkook. It was too goddamn early.

You did not sign up to have your memories, your insecurities, and your reality laid bare on the kitchen counter. 

“It doesn’t matter how I feel. Jungkook is my friend. He always will be.”

Vulnerability wasn’t your strongest suit. You weren't your emotions’ best soldier, either. You wanted to yell at Yoongi, shout at him for even implying that you were getting in the way of Jungkook and his dating life.

“Jungkook cannot date freely if he always has to think about coming home to help you sleep,” Yoongi’s words cut like a knife, making you wince. “You know he deserves better than that. You deserve better than that.”

You have very blunt and straightforward friends, and although they keep you grounded, sometimes you hate how they can casually talk to you about your feelings. Sometimes you think they forget that your sunny disposition can also be sometimes moored by rain and storms. 

“I’m sorry, ____. That was too much, I—”

“No, Yoongi, it’s okay,” tears have already fallen and you hastily wiped them away, “You’re right, it was my fault. I’m the one who got us into this mess. I’m the one who has the sleeping problem, I’ll— I’ll figure something out, maybe get checked or something…” You kept your eyes glued to the untouched food in front of you. Throat burning, fresh tears threatening to fall once more.

Yoongi’s words stung— but he’s also right. The pain of the unspoken truth you try so hard to push down every day come rising to the surface and you are powerless to stop it. 

Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, but immediately closed it the moment he looked over your shoulder. Your stomach churned because your worst fears weren’t done with you yet— Jungkook was standing by the door.

“I think it’s time for you to leave, Yoongi hyeong.” The only time you heard apparent hostility in Jungkook’s voice was years ago when someone attempted to jump you at a party. Jungkook is always kind, but when irritation, let alone animosity, takes over, he becomes a completely different person. 

All you knew was that Jungkook and his girlfriend in tornado form are over.

The music blaring from the speakers were too loud, everyone was all over the place— Jungkook, Yoongi, Taehyung. It was Jungkook’s idea to get wasted at a club. You didn’t always agree with Jungkook’s coping mechanisms, because you knew he was a terrible drinker— someone who couldn’t hold his liquor well. 

But he was heartbroken and what do good friends do? Let them cry and wallow.

But right now, it was time to go home. You called a cab for Yoongi and Taehyung, while you and Jungkook got into another. It was a good decision that you didn’t bring your own car. You wouldn’t have any other choice but to drag Jungkook’s drunk ass to the passenger seat and you weren’t sure you could manage that.

You were thankful that Jungkook could still manage to walk, even if he needed to be physically supported by you. You both fumbled for a bit as you closed your apartment door behind you.

“Alright, you big baby, take off your shoes.”

Jungkook did as he was told, but you could tell his body was about to give up on him so you hastily walked him to the bedroom.

You heaved a big sigh after Jungkook collapsed into the mattress. You could hear Jungkook’s breathing slowly steady itself and you honestly thought he was asleep.

“Are you dead?”

When Jungkook didn’t move, a playful smirk painted your lips and you shook your head. You leaned in closer to fluff Jungkook’s pillow, when his head suddenly turned to face you. 

With eyes half-lidded, you thought Jungkook looked beautiful underneath the sliver of moonlight shining through the bedroom window. He reeked of alcohol and smoke, but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t help but hold his gaze.

Hesitant fingers reached up to trace the skin on your cheek. Jungkook blinked once as he ran gently ran his fingers from the corner of your eye to your chin.

Jungkook’s voice was so soft, you almost didn't hear him ask, “Why don’t you like me, ____?”

“What are you talking about, of course I like you.”

Jungkook shook his head, “That’s not what I meant…”

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. You reminded yourself that Jungkook was intoxicated. He wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. He might not even know what he is doing or saying right now.

“Why can’t you love me, ____?” Jungkook swallowed the lump forming in his throat, “because I have loved you for so long and you won’t even look at me.”

You wanted to cry, but you didn’t exactly know why, “That’s not true, Jungkook.”

“Then prove it, ____.”

“I don’t know how.”

Jungkook, in a way, helped you. With eyes focused on your lips, he slowly lifted his head to graze your mouth with his own. When he finally kissed you, your head was spinning that you had to use your arm for support to keep you up.

Jungkook mustered up all of his remaining strength to sit up on the bed to kiss you properly. He cupped your face with his hand and you did the same. Under the same moonlight, you and Jungkook started to take that one step closer to finally acknowledging what has been there all along.

But in your head, you didn’t know what you want.

Lips separated, letting the both of you breathe. Jungkook touched his forehead against yours before his lips planted a light, lingering kiss there.

Your heart sank even deeper and you fought the tears that were about to come.

Because even though you really loved Jungkook, you and he were at the right place at the wrong time.

The next morning, you and Jungkook weren’t the type to dance around each other. He did remember what happened last night.

“I need to know, ____. I need to know what you want.”

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nodded, but you didn’t miss the flash of sadness that passed through his once hopeful eyes. 

“Are we still friends at least?”

It took all of you to nod your head in agreement. It was better this way.

“Of course we are.”

“Then that’s all I want, ____.”

Just as Yoongi closed the door behind him and it was just you and Jungkook in the now tense atmosphere of the apartment, confusion flooded you. Dread soon followed upon realizing what had just happened. 

You were holding Jungkook back and it’s all your fault. All because you still couldn’t decide what you really want. 

When Jungkook finally locked eyes with you, his gentle gaze made your heart flutter. You don’t deserve it, you thought. But you were allured by it-- so easy to get lost in the sea of Jungkook’s beautiful, observant brown eyes, like they were meant to see right through you, heart and soul. Your face slowly morphed into a pain Jungkook didn’t recognize, a sadness he hasn’t seen before. Your bottom lip began to quiver and before you knew it, you full-on sobbed into your hands. Just as quickly as the collapse of everything began, Jungkook was swift on his feet, taking you into his arms. 

Jungkook embraces you tightly, his breathing controlled in an effort to curb your sobs. You could hear Jungkook’s heartbeat and it was an odd source of comfort despite the distress you were actively feeling. You felt Jungkook’s large hand stroke your hair in slow motion, chin resting on top of your head as if trying to silently tell you don’t cry.

Being with Jungkook felt like drowning and coming up for air all at the same time— your constant, but also your poison. Yoongi was right, Jungkook deserves to be happy after you blew your chance to tell him how you really felt. 

You loved Jungkook, but you had to let him go because he doesn’t deserve to be with someone who cannot make up her mind. When you said no to him a year ago, you thought it was the best for the both of you— Jungkook was hurting and he kissed you because he was drunk and in pain. Not because he loves you. You thought that maybe after some time had passed, what happened that night would just be a distant memory between two friends who had a momentary lapse of judgment.

You have to let him go because it’s the right thing to do, the only way to save the friendship you built over the years. You once saved it, you cannot mess up again. It was selfish, yet so selfless.

When you finally calmed down a little bit more and your breathing slowed, Jungkook loosened his grip. You immediately felt the distance once more, but it was as if Jungkook heard your thoughts because he only pulled away to wipe your tears with his thumbs. Jungkook’s hands cupped your face for a while longer, staring into your teary eyes. Jungkook mumbled an apology as he pressed his forehead with yours. As he closed his eyes, you received a glimpse of Jungkook’s sadness without words. 

Loving Jungkook isn’t supposed to be painful.

Jungkook had to meet a new client so that meant he needed to leave the apartment. You could tell it was difficult for him to leave you all alone in the apartment, but Jungkook only asked if you were going to be okay.

You struggled to leave home that day, but you had to because if you didn’t get out and teach dance, you would continue to drown in your own suffering. You both left the apartment with nothing but your unspoken words and broken hearts.

Jungkook would find himself running late for his meeting and he arrived home to what he thought was a dark, empty apartment. Trodding down the hall to your room, he was mildly surprised to see the door was slightly ajar. Lying on the bed was you. Sleeping.

Jungkook quietly entered the room and knelt down by the side of the bed. Staring at you, with the moonlight shining down on your face, you looked serene— a stark contrast to the chaos that transpired earlier that day. Your lips were slightly parted and Jungkook found himself smiling at the sight. He gently ran his knuckles down your cheek. He did that for a while, just intentionally watching and helping you sleep even more peacefully in the gentlest way. Jungkook was thankful that you didn’t seem to be aware that you weren't alone. 

You kept your eyes closed as you reveled in the softness of Jungkook’s touch. You initially thought you were dreaming of Jungkook kneeling beside you because after all, the sleep gummies seemed to knock you out enough to fall asleep without him this time. But you realized it wasn’t a dream.

Jungkook came home.

The ache in your heart returned, but at the same time, you wished this moment of Jungkook comforting you never ended. Because at least you could have Jungkook like this.

“Will you stay still, ____? I’m not done yet.” 

You pouted as you watched Jungkook draw a bowl of ramen on your leg cast. You injured yourself while attempting to do a tourner for an after-school ballet class. You and Jungkook were now in university and renting an apartment together. Your leg rested on Jungkook’s lap while you both sat on the living room couch. Jungkook slightly had his tongue out while he colored in the ribbons and you scoffed.

“Are you done now?”

“You don’t rush art.”

“Yeah but I’m hungry and I think my leg is asleep.”

Jungkook smirked, “Your leg being in a cast doesn’t really have a choice given the circumstances, what did you expect?” You smacked him with a pillow, “You asshole, give me my leg back.”

“Ow! Nuh uh. I’m almost done.”

You huffed, feigning annoyance. But you were actually endeared with Jungkook’s enthusiasm to draw a different object on your leg cast every week. The moment you got out of the hospital and after Jungkook fed you some jjampong, he carried you to the same living room couch and drew the yellow umbrella he used the day you bought hotteok. The following week, it was a sketch of a person dancing ballet which Jungkook referred to as, “the loveliest ballet dancer in the universe.” This week, it was ballet shoes hanging on one side of the backrest of a chair.

“There, done!” Jungkook slightly pulled away to admire his work then he turned and gave you his dorkiest smile. You could never ask for more.

Weeks passed as you and Jungkook fell into usual routine. You can no longer recall since when you started having a hard time communicating feelings. It wasn’t like you and Jungkook fought a lot because you almost never do. But there’s always that elephant in the room that neither of you choose to address even though it’s already staring back at you both.

On Jungkook’s birthday, Taehyung decided it would be good for you all to spend your time at a club after having dinner. From the get-go, the people in attendance were the birthday boy, Taehyung, Yoongi, you, and Mia.

Needless to say, you were awkward and in pain the entire time.

It was your first time to actually see Jungkook pay attention to someone else in a romantic way. Although he and Mia have yet to put a label on anything, they continued to date, much to your misery.

At the birthday dinner, you tried your best not to look at Jungkook and Mia the whole time, but by some strange magnetic force, everytime you unconsciously looked at Jungkook, his eyes found you.

Come to think of it, Mia was the clingy one the whole night. But maybe you were just misinterpreting things. When Taehyung suggested they go to a club, you internally groaned. Not only was this a repeat performance of what you did wrong a year ago, but it was also like salt being rubbed on a wound that never completely healed well. 

“Fuck it, let’s get wasted,” you thought. You weren’t about to let your misery ruin a fun night.

So much for that, though. You couldn’t even pay attention to your drink because Mia was already trying to get too close to Jungkook. The whole time, Jungkook’s expressions were unreadable. One of his many stupid traits, you sarcastically thought. 

You don't know exactly what happened after— Jungkook went to the bar to order more drinks for the table, followed not too long by Mia. She was relentless in flirting with Jungkook who seemed stoic and indifferent and awkward. Mia must have been really bad at reading people. Still, she didn’t give up that easily because she dragged Jungkook to the middle of the dance floor and tried to get him to dance. 

Maybe you just wanted to see what you wanted to, but if you really were in the right frame of mind, you swore you saw Jungkook finally give in and dance with her. 

Jungkook was having fun with someone else on his birthday. This is what he deserves— to be happy and free. Jungkook doesn’t have to sacrifice his time just to help you sleep every night. 

You felt like you were about to throw up. The room started spinning and suddenly all you could hear were muffled sounds of the music bass. Before you knew it, you were making your way to the exit. You needed to get out. You faintly heard Taehyung calling out to you, asking what was wrong but the tightness in your chest demanded much of your attention. 

When you reached the exit, you pushed the door all the way with all your might and started to walk. You were relieved for once that you weren’t able to drink a drop because you needed a clear head to get home safely. The club was a short distance from the apartment and all you wanted to do was lie in bed and cry yourself to sleep. 

It has been weeks. Weeks of skirting around Jungkook, acting like nothing was amiss. It worked for a while, but you knew it would backfire eventually.

You didn’t think this plan of ignoring feelings would fail you so soon. You thought you were stronger.

Your hands were shaking so badly that you struggled to enter the correct passcode to the door: 090197.

You cursed at the irony. 

Not bothering to turn on the lights, you stumbled in the dark and took off your heels. You went straight to your room and collapsed on the bed. You let the tears stain his pillow. This isn’t new to you now— crying. It somehow helped you sleep, anyway. Right now, you don't care if you cried your eyes raw. You were hurt, in pain, and you didn’t know what to do.

Nights felt like an eternity for an insomniac like you. Your thoughts were your biggest enemy in the dead of night and most of the time you are powerless to control them. You shouldn’t have allowed Jungkook to help you in the first place. Otherwise, you wouldn’t find yourself in this predicament. You’ve already kept your distance before, why did you fail again now? You should’ve known your place, the order in this world. You were Jungkook’s best friend, and you decided that for the both of you that day you told him you were sorry.

Ruminating thoughts can be a bitch because it makes you oblivious to your surroundings in real time.

You suddenly felt the other side of the bed dip. You heard sheets rustle and felt a different kind of warmth-- the kind that only your best friend could give.

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you and breathed in your scent. In the silence of your room, Jungkook, once again, came home to you.

Both of you didn’t speak for a long while, just listening to each other’s rhythm. You felt your bottom lip quiver— you were on the verge of crying again and as you started to sit up and perhaps leave, you felt Jungkook tighten his grip as he clasped his fingers together, securing you in place.

“Please don’t cry.”

You swallowed and tried to reply, but your voice cracked instead, “Why are you here, Jungkook?”

“I want to stay here with you.”

“It’s your birthday.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Then why?”

“Like I said, I want to stay here with you.”

Like wildfire, your heart swelled even when your brain told you not to fall for Jungkook’s words. That you were only reading too much into things, “What about—”

“I told them I wanted to go home because you already did. I turned around to look for you because I heard the barista said there were french fries, but you weren’t at the table anymore.”

Tears started to stream down your face and you were grateful you weren't facing Jungkook. 

“I hate being the reason why you always cry, ____. I have done absolutely nothing to make things better for you and I keep making you feel sad.” Jungkook’s voice was laced with tight emotion and it was something you were hearing for the first time. Jungkook buried himself deeper in the crook of your neck.

“It hurts so much, Jungkook.”

Lifting his head, Jungkook moved in closer to whisper in your ear, “I know. I know. I’m so sorry.” 

You breathed a deep sigh as you willed away the tears. Right on cue, Jungkook gently turned your body to face him. “That’s better,” Jungkook gently smiled, pushing strands of hair away from your face.

With Jungkook’s right arm under your head and his left engulfing you in an embrace, you curled into Jungkook’s chest. No matter what pain you may be feeling, it all dissipates once you’re with Jungkook. 

“I am so sorry, ____. I’m sorry I keep running away.”

You let a small smile take over his lips, “No, Jungkook. You don’t have to apologize. All of this is my fault”

“It’s not… it’s not your fault. It’s mine,” you saw Jungkook swallow. You looked over Jungkook’s shoulder, at the clock situated on top of the side table. Thirty minutes left until Jungkook's birthday ends.

“It’s still your birthday. You shouldn’t be spending it apologizing for something you didn’t do.”

“I am enjoying my birthday because I haven’t lost you yet. And it is my fault, stop fighting me.” Jungkook smiled. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are? Especially under moonlit skies.”

“I don’t think so. Not yet.”

“Then allow me to tell you now. You’re beautiful. The most beautiful person inside out and I am so lucky to have you. Thank you for not leaving me.”

You scooted closer to Jungkook, trying to fill in all the spaces in between. 

It was almost a whisper and you almost didn’t hear it, “Sleep well my silly, beautiful darling,” your eyes flutter close as you felt Jungkook give you a kiss on your temple— a reassuring one, this time. 

“Hey.”

You jumped at the sound of Jungkook’s unusually low voice. “Shit,” you mumbled, earning a pretty smile from Jungkook. “How long have you been standing there?”

The smile didn’t leave Jungkook’s face as he apologized and said with all honesty, “A while.”

You have been spending more late nights in the studio since you and Taehyung started offering additional classes. You held a beginner’s ballet class for children after school hours and you felt you had to spend more time thinking about their routines. Kids need structure, lest their attention becomes too difficult to get a hold of. Jungkook, being the sweetest, always stayed up to wait for you to get home and eat dinner together. 

This time around, Jungkook decided to pick you up from the studio.

You took in the sight of Jungkook who was leaning against the door frame, wearing a cream oversized sweater and white pants. Even in the dimly lit room, Jungkook’s handsome face was radiant.

Seeing him feels like coming home.

Jungkook walked up to you with his hands in his pockets, “I always get caught up in your world whenever I watch you dance. That hasn’t changed.” He was suddenly standing so close to you that you had to clear his throat. Yet you didn’t pull away, either.

“Time passes when that world is not working in my favor,” you said as you rolled your shoulders backward.

“Is this the ballet class for the kids?” 

You hummed in response, “One would think it’s easy enough to make a routine for little kids when really, going back to basics sometimes is the hardest thing.”

“What did you use to tell me?” Jungkook asked warmly, all innocence and love, but you recognized that tone of his. 

“Jungkook—”

“Help me remember, ____. How did we do it back then? When we couldn’t figure out a new routine,” you heard the heels of Jungkook’s white chelsea boots clatter against the wooden floor as he stepped away a bit from you.

You were taken back to your days in the dance club with Jungkook, the two of you in a smaller studio after school practicing for competitions. You and Jungkook were the group’s best dancers and that also meant you were almost always tasked to come up with new choreography. You recalled how you and Jungkook used to practice no matter how long it took. 

Right now, at this very moment, as Jungkook gently urges you to remind you of those days, you appreciated what he was trying to do.

“I’d always tell you, ‘I’m tired, I don’t want to do this anymore,’”

“Hm, and how did I respond?” Jungkook’s eyes never left your face and his voice was so low, that it sent shivers up your spine.

“You’d tell me we didn’t have to do the things other people ask us to dance… not right now.” you breathed as Jungkook’s face inched closer to yours, so close that you could already hear Jungkook’s heartbeat. 

“And then?”

“We’d dance. For ourselves, together.” 

Just as the words escaped your lips, Jungkook slightly pulled away to take his phone out of his pocket, scroll through a playlist, the very same playlist Jungkook uses whenever you both lounge around on a Sunday morning. He found the song he was looking for and pressed play.  

Jungkook put his phone back in his pocket and whispered, “We dance. For ourselves, together.” He wrapped an arm around your waist while his other hand trailed down to hold your own, intertwining both sets of fingers. Falling, you easily melted into Jungkook, your worries about the ballet routines already forgotten.

With bodies pressed close, you felt your heart plummet to a deep dive into your stomach, leaving butterflies as it burst into a million pretty pieces. Jungkook was never one for sweet words, always choosing to convey his thoughts and feelings through his art. He had given you plenty of his work over the years, drawn on crumpled tissue papers or on the back of receipts. Always in all honesty quietly telling you he was there for you no matter what.

And through dance, he was the same— loving, thoughtful, yours. 

“It has been a while since you last danced, right?”

Jungkook leans his forehead into yours, his eyes focused on the floor. He hums his response as he starts to lead the dance.

“It has been a while since I last danced with you,” Jungkook whispered. “Dance with me so I remember, my love.”

You close your eyes, resting your chin on Jungkook’s shoulder, “Remember what, Jungkook?”

“Help me remember everything good about you and me.” 

And although Jungkook couldn’t see it, you smile as you tilt your head to the side. You let Jungkook lead the both of you to the melody of the music for a good few minutes until you fell into a slow, swaying rhythm. 

“I missed dancing with you like this,” you swore you felt Jungkook tighten his hold around your middle a little bit more. Jungkook dropped a kiss to your bare shoulder and said with all reverence, “I miss you, ____.”

He misses you, not missed. You never wanted to let him go. 

You didn’t want to stop touching Jungkook so as you continued to allow your feet to be led by him, you ran a trail using your hand from Jungkook’s shoulders, landing on his chest. Jungkook ran his own hand at the expanse of your back, waiting, waiting. 

“And I miss you too,” you said with a smile. Jungkook cupped your face and ran a thumb to your cheekbone. Never leaving your eyes, he responded, “It’s always a pleasure to dance with you, ____.”

“I always seem more eager to dance when I’m with you,” you said. 

And I always love dancing with you.

“That’s because we know each other’s moves well. We’re in sync no matter how long it’s been.”

Tentatively, you respond, “Maybe we should do it again… more often, this time.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all. I’ll dance with you forever.” 

You and Jungkook went home that night and slept once more in each other’s arms. You noticed a change this time. You felt peaceful, more hopeful. Jungkook didn’t say anything definitive, still, but maybe his heart did. 

And you fell into a quiet sleep as soon as Jungkook kissed your temple. This time, his kiss was more intentional, more heartfelt, like he never wants to let you go.

Not again. 

You woke up the next morning still reeling from the dance you shared with Jungkook. Always the romantic, you thought as you shook your head. Usually, Jungkook was already up and about before you even opened one eye, but life continues to surprise you. 

Jungkook was sitting on the bed, drawing on his iPad. You couldn’t believe it at first— you rubbed sleep out of your eyes and looked at your own phone for the time. It was 8 o’clock and Jungkook was drawing.

The minute you moved, Jungkook was attentive. He stopped drawing as he turned to you to mumble a good morning. 

“Good morning to you, too. What are you doing so early in the morning?”

“Oh, I woke up earlier—”

Cutting him off, you teased, “You always do.” 

Jungkook chuckled, the crinkles in around his eyes so evident, so endearing, “Yeah. Um… I just— the morning light through the window was just so beautiful and I had to draw it.”

“You drew a sunrise at 8 o’clock?”

You rolled your eyes as Jungkook said matter-of-factly, “Actually, 6 o’clock… but no, I didn’t draw the sunrise, not exactly.”

“Then what did you draw?”

Instead of responding, Jungkook gave you his iPad. You realized Jungkook drew you. Jungkook used digital watercolor brushes to paint a picture of you sleeping with your bedroom window behind you. Sunlight accentuated the side of your face, expression tranquil. 

“It’s not finished yet, I need to fill in some of the—“

“It’s beautiful, Jungkook.”

“You always say that, ____.”

“Because your works are beautiful. Every single one of them,” you couldn’t stop admiring Jungkook’s work. You felt your throat constrict once more, emotions starting to take over. This isn’t the first time Jungkook drew you, but it’s definitely the first time you felt something different after seeing his art— a love that continues to blossom, a love for Jungkook that never withered. For the past few weeks, you felt like you were slowly coming to terms with you and him being just best friends, but after last night, you were starting to backslide. 

You will always love Jungkook no matter what— you know that now. Maybe not in the way you want, but Jungkook will continue to have a special hold on your heart that no one else can replace. 

“Thank you for this, Gguk-ah. Can we print and frame this? When you’re done, that is.”

“Of course, ____. I’m glad you like it.”

One of the things you and Jungkook appreciate about the apartment is the silence because it’s never an awkward one. In silence, you’re both comfortable— awkward and pain and everything else in between. In the shared space, you and Jungkook are free to love one another.

In silence, you also hear each other’s hunger. You giggled as Jungkook turned beet red. After all these years of living together, Jungkook still tended to be embarrassed around you. One of the many adorable Jeon Jungkook traits that you love.

“That’s my cue to make breakfast.”

You stood up and ran a hand through your hair before pocketing your phone. Jungkook didn’t move an inch. You didn’t think much of it, but just as you were about to walk out the door, Jungkook called out to you and scrambled to his feet. 

Mornings with Jungkook more often than not are calm, but when you saw Jungkook walk up the short distance to where you were standing, his gaze so strong, your heart began to race. Because you were standing too close to each other, you felt Jungkook take a deep breath before uttering the words you never thought you’d hear from him.

“Don’t leave me.”

At first, you thought you heard wrong. A few seconds later your brain told you that maybe it was Jungkook’s way of saying that he wanted you both to stay in bed a little while longer because after all, it was a Sunday.

But then a third thought came to you, the most dreaded one— what if?

“S-say that again.”

It was physically impossible for Jungkook to get even closer to you. The wide smile drawn on his face made all the difference.

“Don’t leave me.”

Like a bucket of cold water doused on you, you couldn’t believe what Jungkook was really trying to tell you. Your childhood best friend, the man of your dreams. The one person who will move mountains for you without being asked is trying to tell you something you longed to hear.

“Say that again… o-one more time.”

Tears threatened to flow from your sparkling eyes and Jungkook was quick to hold you small face in his hands, “____. Please… don’t ever leave me.”

You struggled not to cry so much upon finally understanding what Jungkook was really trying to say. You wanted to respond to Jungkook’s plea, but all that came out was a sob. Jungkook peppered your face with soft kisses down to your jaw. You found yourself holding on to Jungkook, grip like a vice. You don't want to let him go. You will never. 

Not again.

You tried your best to properly respond this time, “Don’t worry, Gguk. I will never, ever leave you.” You ran your knuckles down Jungkook’s face, “I was just going to make us breakfast because you’re hungry.”

Jungkook laughed at how you could still manage to make an intimate moment so endearing. He held your wrist and kissed the palm of your hand before leaning in to finally kiss you full on your lips. His kiss was tentative at first until he decided to be bolder, silently asking you to let him in. You readily gave Jungkook access to kiss you even deeper. Like wildfire, heat spreads throughout your body— this is what it feels like to kiss Jungkook without reservation. This is what it feels like to kiss your best friend, no holds barred.

Overwhelmed with affection, you felt yourself being lifted by Jungkook and your legs automatically cling to his waist. The position gave him an even better angle to kiss the person he has longed for almost all his life, “How long, Jungkook? How long have you really liked me?”

You didn’t think Jungkook would immediately understand what you were trying to ask, “Since that day I asked you to dance with me under the rain.”

Jungkook saw the look of recognition in your eyes. He knew you knew what he was referring to. “I have always been in love with you, ____. I just… I was so scared of you rejecting me that I thought it was best if I kept my feelings to myself. I tried dating other people because I thought maybe that would help me get to know others better.”

And as if Jungkook could read your mind, he kissed your forehead before talking again.

“I don’t regret kissing you that night… I was drunk, but I was sober enough to know and remember what I said. We broke up because she told me I was always distracted. I always thought of you everywhere we went. She told me I never really moved on… that I still call out your name even when I was with someone else. When you told me no then, I knew it was my fault for not thinking things through. It was my mistake that I didn’t communicate with you better, ____. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t have a lot of words to respond with, not after that speech from Jungkook so you only asked ever so meekly, “And Mia?”

“I told her we were better off as friends. She took it quite well than I expected. I think deep down, she knew too.”

“Knew what?”

“That I was undeniably, irrevocably in love with you.”

“Do you really have to use big adjectives?”

Jungkook shrugged and chuckled, “Makes for good conversation. I’m trying to communicate better, remember?”

It was your turn to chuckle and lean your forehead against his. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, ____. I put you through so much pain and I just let it happen.”

You shook your head, wanting to let Jungkook know this wasn’t all on him.

“If anything, you have always made me so happy, Jungkook. I don’t get to show you how much all the time.”

“Can we start over?” Jungkook looked at you, full of hope.

“I would love that.”

“I love you, ____.”

My best friend in this entire world, whom I love.

“I love you, too, Jungkook.”

My best friend in this entire world, who loves me back.

Your hotteok was already paid for by Jungkook before you even had the chance to pay for it yourself. “It’s all taken care of,” Jungkook said.

Both of you were already hungry from running so you decided to eat right there under the hotteok stand. You could see a black car parked across the street and assumed that it must be Mr. Hong-sik. You both ate in silence for a while, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain until you felt Jungkook tugging your sleeve.

“What’s wrong?”

“Come on, ____”

“Where are we going?”

“There!”

You looked to where Jungkook was pointing with his finger. There was nothing there but the school.

“You want to go back to where we came from?”

“Not really. School is boring,” Jungkook mused and before you knew it, you were being pulled in the middle of pouring rain.

“What are you doing, Jungkook? We are going to get wet!”

“We already are, ____! Come on!”

You both had to shout over the steady noise of the rain. You realized Jungkook wasn’t kidding— he was really under the rain, in the middle of the school’s wide, open space, waiting for you to join him. 

“You are insane, Jeon Jungkook!” you shouted, but he just grinned that much harder. He took both your hands and led you to jump and dance in the rain.

“Maybe I am, but it’s fun to dance in the rain with someone else!”

You felt so glad to be living the same time with someone as Jungkook after that day. 

The day you will forever be grateful for.

[haymitchabernathymybeloved]

Drink Me Away

dividers by @anitalenia

Series: Hunger Games (Suzanne Collins)

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x F!Reader

Warnings: Age gap, porn with so much plot, smut, vaginal sex, daddy kink, slightly weird dynamic, traumabonding(?), underage drinking/alcoholism in general

Summary: You were never more than just drinking buddies with Haymitch, until you came to him for consolation when your parents disowned you. He never planned to make a move, but you couldn't handle it. He was your favorite person- but that could never progress, right?

A/N: Absolutely no writing of the actual Games- just there for plot reasons. I've loved Haymitch for so long and theres absolutely no xreader fics with him, so I wrote my own.

Please let me know if i missed any warnings! happy readings ☆

You came from a well-off family, one that had never had to put their children in danger with tesserae, one that got the freshest bread, one that had no idea about their eldest daughter's after-school activities; heading to the hob as often as possible, paying anyone she could for a bottle of spirits. You began when you were 16.

Your only true drinking competition was Haymitch Abernathy- he had known your family for years, but as close as he was with your father, he had never known you. You never cared to approach him when he entered your house or when your parents spotted him in the square.

When you became a regular Hob attendee, you saw much more of him. Drinking competitions became a regular occurrence between the two of you when you were 17, praises of your tolerance always boosting your ego at 18. This lasted until you were 19.

Your father had a rough day at work. He had visited the Hob for the first time in year, accompanied by Haymitch. He had come to try and spot you before your father could and tell you to book it. It didn't work out that way.

Haymitch spotted you two seconds too late, after hearing the deafening screech of your father yelling your name across the Hob. You froze in place, glass in hand and arm on a man who's name you couldn't remember. The sounds around you died around somewhat, all eyes on the father-daughter exchange.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He hissed, approaching rapidly.

"I'm 19, dad, I'm allowed to have fun," you huffed.

"Since when is 'fun' illegal drinking in the black market?"

"A while now, actually."

"You're grounded."

"I'm 19."

"Then get your shit," he snatched the drink from your hand, throwing it back like water. "And get the fuck out of the house." He slammed the glass against the table, turning tail and leaving.

You sat, stunned at the confrontation. You slipped off your barstool and followed your father's path in a haze. You jumped when a hand clamped around your wrist, eyes flickering to Haymitch standing there, concern splashed through his features.

"What happened, sweetheart?" He questioned genuinely.

"Nothing, Haymitch, don't worry about it," you sighed, trying to pull away and not drag him into family business.

"I said 'what happened', kid. Not 'do you want to tell me'," he demanded.

"I- nothing," you stopped yourself. It was none of his business!

"I want to help you, let me, please." Well you never thought you'd hear him say please.

"My dad kicked me out- happy?" You fumed, a sudden rage building in your belly as you yanked your wrist away from him with all your might and began stomping off.

"You can stay with me," he called after you. "The couch is comfy." You turned on your heel back to him.

"You're kidding," you blanched. "Seriously? You'd let me stay with you? Why?" The questions spilled out, confusion and appreciation mingling.

"Because I care about your wellbeing, kid," he chuckled. "And if you're living with me you ain't gotta head all the way to the Hob for a drink or two."

And so began the complicated relationship between the two of you. Two unemployed day drinkers with no hobbies, no friends, and no family. You found out that your mother wanted nothing to do with you, and they wouldn't allow your siblings to see you. Haymitch had no family left alive. You were both stuck drinking away your sorrows together.

He didn't make you get a job- just run errands. Get food, get living supplies, relax. He got the liquor. He kept you from drinking too much, usually limiting you to three glasses at a time. A good majority of your time was spent cuddling. It wasn't weird. It was just.. comforting. For the both of you. Nothing weird.

The night you had moved in with him was the first time. You were vulnerable, and ended up sobbing on the floor with a bottle in your hand. He slipped it out gently, setting it on the ground next to you. He leaned down and picked you up off the ground with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms around his neck. He laid down on the couch with you in that position, letting you blubber and yap until you fell asleep.

When you awoke, you were squished between the back cushions and his body comfortably. His arms laced around your waist, holding you to his chest, his face in the crook of your neck. You dozed back off and when you awoke he was sitting at his armchair, unphased and watching the news.

it had been 6 months since that night. You drank with him almost every day, had two friends which were men you had drank with at the hob, and had hobbies and a black cat that roamed freely through Haymitch's house. Things were.. good.

And you were falling for your housemate.

He was nothing more than someone who you cared for. You were legal, yes, but he was so much older than you. He was a respectable man- sure, drinking the days away with a friend's disowned daughter wasn't exactly mature behavior, but at least he held you close every time you cried. But that was purely platonic affection, him caring for your well-being and holding you through the night being the only way he knew to comfort you.

That night, you drank your feelings away with him. He was getting louder and you were getting quieter, watching him carefully. Trying not to expose the vile thoughts running your mind into the dirt as he blabbed about his favorite liquor.

The heat in your tummy only got worse as you drank more, giving him professional fuck-me eyes by your 4th. If he noticed, he didn't say anything. But by the way his eyes never left yours, even when you looked away, you were sure he had.

"H-Haymitch," you hiccuped, certain you were bordering alcohol poisoning. You never drank this much- either you had enough or he stopped you. Not tonight. "I'm not, I'm really, uh," you couldn't get your thoughts straight. "Take me to our room, please." You managed to get out.

"Our room?" He questioned, brighter than you'd ever seen him. "Last I checked, we've never slept in it at the same time. If anything, the living room is our room." He sauntered over to you slowly, placing his bottle on the table in front of you. You reached for it and got your hand smacked. You were already feeling a little green.

"Just take me," you groaned, choking back a gag. "I'm sleepy." You whined at him.

"Sure you don't need to vomit, sweetheart? Do it before I tuck you in, if you would be ever-so-kind," you shook your head no, but then stood swiftly and shook your head yes. He guided you to the sink as you emptied the contents of your stomach in it. He held your hair. You tilted your head back up and turned the water on, washing the liquid away.

"Atta girl, let's get you some water, why don't we," you groaned and nodded, washing your hands and turning back to him as he handed you a bottled water. You chugged it, feeling a tad more sober, and you began to walk to the bathroom. Haymitch sat back down and swirled his finger around the lip of his cheap whiskey bottle.

You brushed your teeth and tongue thoroughly. You wouldn't have cared, you didn't. But something in the way Haymitch's fingers continued to linger on your skin made you start to. You exited the bathroom, swishing a bit of mouthwash through your teeth before walking to the kitchen sink and spitting it out there.

"Take me to bed." You requested, standing in front of haymitch in your big tee-shirt and shorts.

"Awfully bold now, aren't you sweetheart?" He rasped, standing almost as soon as you had asked. He walked towards you, leaning down and scooping you up bridal style. You were not expecting this- a belly laugh escaping from you as he began to walk you up the stairs.

You were drenched. Absolutely soaked through your panties. You just prayed he wouldn't notice anything off about your demeanor- maybe he would just chalk it down to the abundance of alcohol in your system?

"Haymitch! Do you have to be so rough?" You gasped as he nearly threw you and himself onto the bed. As you recollected yourself, he stood. "Leaving so soon?" You whined playfully.

"Not if you don't want me to, doll," he chuckled. His raspy voice sent a chill down your spine.

"Well, I mean," you sputtered. "I would- I don't, no. I don't." You finally got your words out, pursing your lips and peering up at him through your lashes as he laughed at you.

"God, you're a mess, aren't you sweetheart?" He mocked, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you. "I would almost think it's more than just the alcohol at this point, wouldn't you?" You inhaled sharply through your nose at the insinuation.

"What? No, I'm just really drunk, that's all-" he pressed his thumb to your lips.

"Quiet," he whispered, leaning closer to you. "Lying won't get you anywhere in life, sweetheart." God, he was so close. You could smell him, more than usual. Pine and whiskey, mingling into the sexiest thing you had ever had the pleasure to smell.

You whimpered out loud when he pulled away. He smirked at you. Your eyes went wide as he began stripping. "Wh- why, what-" You tripped over your words, nearly beginning to crawl towards him. He was clearly relishing in your newfound behavior.

"Calm yourself, doll," he chuckled, flopping down next to you on his bed. "I'm just getting comfortable- you wanted to sleep after all. Right?" He was asking for your honesty.

This was the make-it-or-break-it of the night- he was giving you the chance to tell him what you were feeling. "I, uhm," you began with so much confidence and hope. But then, your critical thinking kicked in. He didn't actually want you to respond like that! He was warning you not to act on your obvious desires.

"Yes, just want to sleep," you muttered, beginning to pull your shirt from your body. You stood before you could finish. "I'll go to the bathroom, sorry." You apologized, melancholy. He grabbed your wrist.

"You're fine, sweetheart," he was serious. Your heartbeat increased and you suspected he was feeling at your pulse with the way he was squeezing. "Lying won't get you anywhere." He intentionally repeated his words from earlier. A shiver ran down your spine and settled in your bones. You were on edge and dripping wet. You whimpered.

"Haymitch, please," you whispered. "Don't make me say it." You pouted at him with glazed eyes and he pulled you back onto the bed in front of him. You were looking at him with need in your eyes, and he nearly matched your expression.

"Well, if you're so tired, you'd better get ready for bed, right, sweetheart?" He rasped, and you felt disappointment settle in your gut.

"Oh, uhm, yeah, I guess," you spoke quietly, scooting yourself to be more comfortable as you reached under your shirt to unclasp your bra. You were looking away from him, trying to avoid facing the cause of the weight on your chest.

A featherlight touch on your abdomen drug your attention away from your failed attempt, arms falling to your sides as he replaced your hands, unhooking the garment with ease. The straps fell from your shoulders as he reached to the bottom of your shirt. You raised your arms and let him lift it, leaving you in nothing but shorts and your loose and unsecured bra.

You looked at him in curiosity. He noticed and smirked. "You have to be comfortable to sleep, don't you, sweetheart?" His gentle grip turned demanding and you gasped as he snatched the only thing covering your breasts. Your arms flew to cover yourself and he slowly reached to restrain your wrists, shifting his weight so he was holding himself over you, pinning your wrists into the mattress.

"H-Haymitch," you whispered, barely audible.

"Yes, love?" He matched your volume, leaning so close that you could taste the whiskey on his breath.

"Kiss me," you asked. "Please." He looked from your eyes to your lips, silent for a moment.

"There's no going back if we do this," he warned, staring into your eyes for any tell of your thoughts. All he could see was desire. The same burning desire that fuelled the hard-on in his briefs. "I won't pretend anymore, especially not if you let me do what I want right n-"

"Shut up and kiss me, Haymitch," you groaned, bucking your hips up and rubbing yourself against his clothed erection. "Before I change my mind." You giggled.

He pressed his lips to yours fervently, touching you in a way that all the hours you had spent together could have never prepared you for. His hands flew from your wrists and his weight shifted to his knees, pressing your heat to his cock as he practically dry-humped you through your makeout. He was rubbing his thumb into your hip, squeezing it so tightly but you relished in it. His other free arm was pressed into the pillow next to your head, keeping him from crushing you under his weight.

"Good God," he groaned out needily, pulling away from your lips to begin kissing and sucking on your throat. He threaded his fingers through your hair, tilting your head for more access to your quickly purpling neck. "Sweeter than candy, you know that?" He grumbled against your skin. Your hands were settled in his hair and on his broad shoulders, taking in every sensation.

"There's something I would like to taste," you smirked slyly, pushing at his shoulders gently, sitting up with him.

"Oh, really? And what might that be, darling?" He reached up and held your hands as they sat on his shoulders. You reached down to his briefs and pulled them until his cock sprung from the waistband. You gasped at the size of it, watching it slap against his stomach with a soft sound.

"Y-You're so," you stammered. "I'm not sure I can take all of that, Haymitch.." He chuckled, replacing his hand in your hair as he pushed you towards his cock, pulling you with him as he readjusted against the headboard.

"You'll learn." Was all he said as he pulled you until your lips were wrapping around his broad head.

"You're so," you spoke around his tip. "So girthy, Haymitch.." He laughed at your muffled words, spoken with his cock bumped against your cheek. You began to swirl your tongue around his tip and he sighed, letting his laughter die down. He shifted his hand and shoved his dick straight into the back of your throat. You gagged and sputtered, pulling off and coughing with your cheek against his rigid member.

"It ain't Haymitch to you anymore, sweetheart," he growled. Your eyes widened, not sure what his next words would be. "It's daddy. Got that, doll?" You gasped- how vulgar, why would he ever think you would call him something so, so-

"Yes, daddy," your own words caught you off guard. You picked your head up and proceeded to gag on his cock until you felt as though you could throw up. A few times, you were enveloped in pure bliss. Those were the moments when he groaned and shoved your head down so far that your nose buried in the thick hair at the base of his cock. You felt so used and proud of yourself.

"Atta girl," he praised, lifting your head off his cock and smirking at you. You were panting, saliva and precum coating your chin. "So gorgeous like this, should get you drunk like this more often." He kissed you gently, contrasting the roughness of which he just fucked your throat.

"Please," You begged quietly. "Please fuck me." Haymitch chuckled at you.

"Say my name, darling," he growled. You began to say Haymitch, but he interrupted you. "Not that name, doll." He corrected, grabbing you and pulling you on top of himself until you were straddling him. You were slightly caught off guard, grinding down on him and moaning. You were still clad in your shorts and panties.

"Please, daddy," you whimpered. He chuckled, gripping your hips and pressing you harder against him. "Please fuck me, daddy!" You cried out, throwing yourself forward into a kiss. He flipped you over, pressing your back into the mattress. He sat up and yanked your shorts down before ripping both sides of your underwear. You yelped in surprise and scolded him.

"Consider it a souvenir, sweetheart," he chuckled at you. "A souvenir from the first time you're getting fucked by me." You gasped, feeling him begin to align his thick head with your entrance. He pushed in slowly, and you cried out.

"Daddy! Be gentle, plea-" You were cut off by a silent moan getting caught in your throat as he bottomed out. "Mmhm, please wait a- a momen- mm." You could barely speak, he wasn't thrusting but he was circling his hips ever so slightly, giving you friction in parts of your pussy you didn't even know you had.

"Oh, I'll be gentle for now, sweetheart," he groaned, beginning to thrust gently. "But I can't promise that'll last." He kept a slow and rhythmic pace, bottoming out with every lingering thrust. You let out a sharp breath every time.

He picked up his pace, your breath hitching with every thrust. You did your best to hide any moans, but could barely contain yourself. He began suckling on your neck and unintentionally digging his fingers into your hips.

Then, he pulled out. You whined at the unwanted emptiness, but then he grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your stomach. He began pounding into you, faster and harder and deeper than before. You became a slurred, moaning mess. He didn't stop, ignoring all of your moans and pleas of pure pleasure.

He had already begun to bruise your hips, squeezing and pushing and pulling to fuck you oh-so-nicely, penetrating you over and over.

He started getting rough, leaning over you and removing his hands from your hips. He started fucking you with the force of his whole body weight, leaving you moaning like a whore underneath him.

"I'm close, sweetheart," he growled. "You?" Not taking a break to let you answer, if anything going faster.

"Ah, uh, mm-mhm!" You cried. "K-keep, nn, going! Please daddy!" and with that, he lost all tempo and fucked you ruthlessly. He picked you up, put you on your back, pressed your knees into your chest, and slid back in one smooth motion.

This new angle was so deep, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You cried out, reaching to Haymitch and gripping your hands in his hair.

"Daddy! Please, please, please, PLEASE," you screamed, begging for release with all your might. He reached down, playing with your clit for a moment, and you burst.

You felt the heat in your tummy rush to all your pleasure points, overwhelming you. Haymitch didn't slow down, but when you began to squeeze his cock like a vice, he pulled you close and started with short, deep thrusts.

You fell asleep immediately.

When you awoke, you were alone in the bed. You looked around groggily, no sign of your newfound lover. You slipped your feet to the side of the bed, attempting to stand. Your knees gave out, but you caught yourself on the bed.

You noticed that there was no trace of your earlier activities- a clean bed that you had just been tucked nicely into, your legs had no residue of either yours or his juices. Your hair was neatly combed.

You heard the sound of water shutting off, and figured Haymitch had been showering. A few minutes later, he exited with damp hair and a towel around his waist. You were intrigued.

"Good mornin', darlin'," he chuckled at the way you were looking at him. "Looking so eager for another round, huh?" He teased. You settled back into bed.

"Soon," you told him. " But for now, come lay with me." You smiled, scooting further into the bed to give him space. He dropped his towel and walked towards you. You dampened at the sight of his semi-hard cock.

He slipped into bed next to you, flipping you over so your back was to his chest. His cock rested between your legs, the head bumping your clit.

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he whispered, moving his hips and making his cock bump your sensitive nub. "That's what you wanted, right dear?"

A/N: hope you enjoyed! please leave asks/requests! BEGGING YOU!!!

[thegnomelord]

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land Ch: 1

CW: Canon typical violence, gore and violence, Canon alterations, GN reader for now, eventual Kim Dokja/reader/Yoo Joonghyuk, AO3

Summary: When you were a child, you learned two lessons. One of them, your parents had carved into your bones with tongues as sharp as swords: Some things will always be out of your control.

Perhaps this was why you had emersed yourself in fiction from a young age, because it allowed you to feel true freedom through the lives and struggles of the characters, to live out their happy endings even if your treacherous heart didn't allow one for yourself.

But those times were coming to an end.

Here you were, a foreigner in Seoul, one contract away from losing all you had worked to achieve. At times like this, you would wonder what the protagonists would do, what you would do in a lawless world like ORV, where the lessons you had learned would loose their meaning...

Could you reach your own happy ending? Or would you fail once again?

As they say; Be careful what you wish for.

It's funny how quickly life can fall to pieces.

Not even two weeks ago you had still been known as the choreographer and back up dancer of 'cODe X', a relatively underground kpop group quickly garnering mainstream popularity thanks in large part to your unique and 'chaotic' style of choreography meshing wonderfully with their abstract sense of music. And you were good at your job too; whether it was working from the shadows as their dance coach or on the main stage as a back up dancer, one thing was clear— you knew how to entertain.

Of course working for them hadn't been all sunshine and roses, as the many sleepless nights could attest. Frankly you had lost count how many times you had stayed late in the studio, chasing away fatigue with caffeine and prayers just so you could perfect a routine. Seeing as their boom in popularity and subsequent employment offer at a entertainment company had only happened a few months ago, the pay hadn't been the best either, but you didn't mind.

Hell, considering the bloodthirsty viper pit that was the Korean job market for foreigners, you were quite lucky to be working for them, and having to deal with their sleazy employer, than working one of the dirty, dangerous and demeaning jobs Korea would often offer to people like you...or worse: getting deported.

But your luck has run out.

Because some things will always be out of your control.

Now here you were; Sitting in a prestigious restaurant turned impromptu courtroom, where the judge was nowhere to be seen and the other costumers, like bought jurors, paid no attention to you or your plight. And why would they? Though you were the wronged party here, you sat at the table not as a victim deserving justice; But as the antagonist, as the villain.

Because the 'victim' had already won, and this farce was just for show.

...

Black beady eyes stared back at you through the glass as if it saw kinship between the two of you. But that was just your mind trying to console you; You knew that the only thought in the things' head was the instinctual drive to protect its unhatched young still stuck to its tail. It didn't even notice when one of it's kin was pulled out of the tank, leaving only two lobsters where once there had been three, just because someone had gotten hungry and decided they wanted grilled lobster tail.

You supposed you were no better than them, your life in the hands of someone else. Yet unlike the lobsters, who floated around the tank as they were still beneath the sea, you weren't ignorant to the powers that be...so why did that not make you feel any better?

A bottle of soju was placed on the table, tearing you away from your thoughts. You watched the waiter girl give a shallow bow and scamper off, turning your attention to the so called 'victim' of this mess.

Or you would have, if the damn copycat had actually showed up.

Instead of meeting the smug smirk of Juin, the bastard that had copied the choreography you had invented and performed step for step and then accused you of stealing his ideas, you were instead greeted by the best lawyer his daddy's money could afford; Although you hadn't paid enough attention to remember his name, the smile he had given you at the start of the negotiations would've made the devil proud.

You didn't have enough money to hire a snake like that, and going to court over this matter with your budget was out of the question. Hell, the only reason you had a competent lawyer of your own, instead of the one the entertainment company had tried to give you, was because he was a fan turned friend of yours.

"As I was saying," The lawyer cleared his throat. He was a short man and looked old enough to be mistaken for one of the Elders. "My client is happy to drop all charges provided your client issues a public apology and agrees not to sign any more choreography or dance specific contracts for the next four years." And just like the Elders, you couldn't underestimate him.

"Are you kidding me?" Choi Chin-Mae's bewildered voice pulled you out of your musings.

Chin-Mae was short even by Korean standards, and looked like a pipsqueak when next to you. His eternal baby face only complicated matters, with light brown hair and honey colored eyes he looked more like your little brother than a man one year away from being thirty and several years your senior. Because of his youthful appearance, people would underestimate him in the courtroom, and in doing so would unwittingly dig their own graves as Chin-Mae turned out to be a vicious lawyer when he could go before a judge.

"Non-competition agreements must be fair for the one sighing it, but what you are asking of my client is grossly abusive and would impair my client's livelihood and employment opportunities more than the common six month long NCA's." Chin-Mae argued. "And, I can't believe I have to say this, but you would know that such a contract is illegal and wouldn't be binding in any country, least of all ours."

Unfortunately, you couldn't go in front of a judge, even if the claims were baseless, the attorney and court fees would surely bankrupt you. It's the reason why you had agreed to try settling this outside of court.

The opposing lawyer smiled at Chin-Mae as if he was a child, "Mister Choi, my client isn't asking for them to sign an NCA."

You could see Chin-Mae narrow his eyebrows, his mouth opening to form a rebuttal, but no sound came out as the other lawyer held up his hand, taking a long sip of his soju. When he was done, he put the glass on the table, before speaking. "My client expects yours to do this on their own accord, without a signed NCA."

"That's preposterous," Chin-Mae scoffed, "No judge would allow that." He shot back, already beginning to form another reply when he was cut off again.

"Oh?" The lawyer asked, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his lip. "Then would your client like to go to court over this matter as we had originally intended and see what the judge decides?"

Chin-Mae closed his mouth, his lips pressed into into a thin line. You could see the gears in his head turning, struggling to come up with a rebuttal.

You sighed internally. As sad as it sounded, you were used to this; This disappointment and failure and powerlessness.

Maybe that was why you felt so calm at the moment...either that or the stress over the past few weeks had made you numb as a rock. Either way, Juin was richer and more influential than you, and with his daddy's money, you were certain that the populace would see you as the selfish copycat and the truth would be buried six feet deep where it could rot alongside your reputation.

Was this how the author of TWSA felt when SSSSSS-grade Infinite Regressor came out and became wildly popular?

"Of course, my client isn't heartless." You found that hard to believe, but held your tongue. "He is willing to offer a...different method to resolve this problem."

You and Chin-Mae glanced at one another, your friend only shrugging his shoulders as the other lawyer rifled trough his suitcase.

"Here we are," The lawyer pulled out a thick stack of papers bound together at the corner. You had to assume it was a contract, though even in the entertainment industry you had never seen a contract that was as thick as a Bible.

He placed it on the table, sliding it towards you. You only managed to read the first few lines, most of it meaningless lawyer lingo, before Chin-Mae snatched it and began reading through it, softly mumbling some legal jargons under his breath that you had no hopes of understanding.

"What is Juin offering?" You asked, far too tired or numb to call the copycat with any respect (not that he deserved any).

The lawyer didn't even bat an eye at your disrespect. "In short, the employer of my client is offering for you to come work under my client." He explained, taking another long sip of his drink. "You are remarkably talented for someone so young," He offered, the compliment wounding your pride more than any insult from your parents ever could. "It would be a shame to see it wasted for such a stupid mistake like the one you had made."

You narrowed your eyes, but otherwise were able to hold your poker face. "And my obligations if I signed it?"

Judging by the fact that Chin-Mae had grown as silent as the grave while reading the aforementioned contract, whatever was in store for you wasn't good.

"My client still expects a public apology for the damage you had caused to his reputation." The lawyer gave you an innocent smile, "You will also be required to terminate your previous contract with your current employer, but that one is obvious." He then began listing off even more conditions, from low wages to obscenely long work hours and even more draconian requirements.

It was little better than the slave contracts the 'cODe X' members had signed.

Chin-Mae echoed your sentiment, nearly frothing at the mouth as he slapped the contract on the table. Still, he was able to hold himself back from starting off his sentence with an insult. "The contract says nothing about their visa, how can we be sure you shi—"

Quick as a flash you elbowed him in the ribs, punching a pained sound out of him and cutting him off before he could say something stupid in the heat of anger. He glanced at you, before nodding his head and clearing his throat. "...Will the company provide continued renewals of my clients' work permit provided they sign the contract?"

The lawyer watched this all go down with amusement, but luckily didn't comment on your minor display of violence. "That is correct." He nodded his head, turning to look at you. "The entertainment organization has already prepared all the necessary documents on their end, barring your employment contract, which we are discussing at this moment." He motioned to the stack of papers sitting on the table.

Your friend grew silent, watching the old lawyer take a sip of soju, before he asked. "Is there room to negotiate the details of this contract? Multiple aspects and stipulations of this contract leave a legal grey area and the employer's expectations for my client aren't any clearer."

Or, in other words; it was legal on paper, and only on paper.

"I'm afraid not," The lawyer have you a sympathetic smile, though you were sure it was about as real as Juin's nose if the tabloids about his plastic surgeries were to be believed. "This is the only contract my client is willing to offer you...no alterations allowed." The old man leaned into his chair as he finished off his soju, motioning to the papers in front of you. "You can sign it now or you can meet my client in court and let the judge decide the outcome. What do you say?"

Oh, you had a lot to say, most of it unfit even for a PG18 audience.

To think that this bastard had framed you as a plagiarist, dragged your name and reputation through the mud, and was now aiming to squeeze what joy and creativity you had left in your soul like it was a wet rag...and he hadn't even bothered to show up in person to do so.

A dark voice, locked away deep in the caverns of your heart, whispered a seductive thought in your ear: Drown the lawyer in the lobster tank!

But you shouldn't, couldn't, do that.

Chin-Mae sagged in his chair, looking at you with a worry in his eyes. "What...what should we do?"

You frowned, what else was there for you?

You pulled the contract in front of you, flipping over to the last page. You reached into your pocket, fingers ghosting over cold metal as they went past it and grasped the dojang you carried around. At this point, the instinct to carry it around was no difference than the ingrained need to have sharp steel hidden in your pocket or boot.

"What other choices do we have?" You asked, the question rhetorical in nature.

"None that would be in your best interest." The lawyer helpfully informed you, pushing forward a small contained of red dojang ink. You were only slightly surprised they weren't asking you to sign the devil's contract with your own blood, though the irony of red ink wasn't lost on you.

The dojang hovered over the signature mark, the nerves you had locked away so well until now making themselves known through a slight tremor in your hands which only got worse the longer you hesitated. Oh, how you wanted to take matters into your own hands, like the protagonists of ORV or some other manga. Those heroes who could to push through their problems or fool the gods themselves, forging their own path with nothing but the strength in their arms and their wits...But fiction wasn't reality, and some things would always be out of your control.

If only you could change your future.

The lights cut out, plunging you in darkness.

A shiver raced down your spine, followed closely by a cold sense of wrongness.

"What's happening?"

"Must be a power outage, nothing to worry about."

"Well they better fix it quick, I haven't finished eating."

You paid no attention to the voices of the other restaurant goers, something at the back of your mind urging you to check your phone. Your hand was already reaching for it long before your brain had fully processed the thought. The light burned your eyes, but even that failed to garner your attention as your eyes settled on what resided on your home-screen:

You have 5 new messages from: tls123

The lights came back on, but you didn't put your phone down, instead quickly opening the messages.

tls123: I am sorry. We failed.

tls123: In truth, I don't know how this happened, but you are here now.

tls123: Maybe you can succeed where we failed.

tls123: This should help.

tls123: [Attached 2 files titled 'Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World.TXT', 'Omnipresent Reader's Viewpoint.TXT']

You stared at your phone, unease and confusion bubbling in the pits of your stomach. Thoughts rolled around your head like tumbleweeds, forming questions which demanded answers you didn't have; Was this a joke? Was someone pranking you? It wasn't like bored teenagers never texted weird shit to random numbers, but they were never so specific.

On instinct you pressed the download button, before trying to type back a message. Only you couldn't; any letter you pressed would lag for a good five seconds if it even registered at all. Despite your best efforts, all you had typed out was an incomprehensive mess of letters. It seemed like your phone was using everything it had just to download those two files.

With a strange sense of deja vu, you checked the time on your phone — 7:02 p.m.

You couldn't tell what you felt at that moment; Anger? Sadness? Disappointment? Foolishness maybe?...This was real life, not fiction, what were you doing fooling yourself into thinking that it could be any different?

The call of your name from the lawyer had you switching off your phone and quickly putting it back in your pocket. "Yes, I'll sign it." You picked up the dojang, re-applying the ink. This time you only hesitated for a second before placing your seal on the dotted line, resigning yourself to your fate.

Then you heard a voice and you didn't even notice when you mouthed the words it said in sync with it:

[The free service of planetary system 8612 has been terminated]

[The main scenario has started]

You blinked rapidly before rubbing your eyes, wondering if you had finally lost what marbles you had left.

Then Chin-Mae muttered by your side, "Is that a...Dokkaebi?" Then a second later, under his breath. "I've got to cut back on that shit."

You whipped your head around quickly to look, forgetting to ask what that shit was as your ears began to ring, the dojang quietly slipping from your fingers at the sight you saw.

Floating in the center of the restaurant was a...a small furred creature, its off white fur contrasting with the tattered skirt/loincloth it had around its waist. Two budding horns sprouted from its head, like those of a little Billy goat.

"Wow, is this a new attraction?"

"It's kinda ugly looking."

The voices of others rang like church bells in your ears, yet they accomplished one significant thing — they proved that you hadn't gone insane just yet and that this thing was real.

As quick as you could you grabbed your phone, scrolling through your downloads until you found it: TWSA, all 3,149 chapters of it.

You scrolled through the chapters, only reading bits and pieces of it all as some part of you tried to prove to you that this was all just your imagination. You felt something at the back of your mind ding as you read through the chapters, lines you had seen in the ORV novel scattered among pages and pages of what had to be the original TWSA.

You looked up as the little creature tried to speak, but you already knew what would come out. Though it still surprised you how the language it spoke vaguely sounded like a bastardized version of your mother tongue.

['*#(w&$!*$!]

[#*@!%a!(*s(#!@#*&!]

"Hey, isn't that your language?" Chin-Mae asked, turning to look at you.

You shrugged one shoulder, no less confused than him. "If it is, that's the worst accent I've ever heard."

Then a few seconds later, you heard perfectly pronounced Korean leave the little creature's mouth. "I, I am really sorry everyone, the Korean patch wasn't...um working properly." It said, but something was strange;

Why did it look like that, you knew webtoon artists took some liberties but you were certain that the Dokkaebi from ORV was white with golden horns, not off-white with brown horns. And it certainly hadn't been as polite, and was this really how it sounded in real life?

The little creature cleared its throat. "Now...May I have everyone’s attention, I, I have big important news!” It tried to sound commanding by raising his voice, but either because of fear or stage-fright it failed to garner the attention it wanted.

"Do you think they sell plushies like that?"

"Do you really think the girls would like it?"

"Mommy I want one! I promise I'll take good care of it and feed it, and walk it, and pick up after it!"

You had no idea how that was possible, but parts of the Dokkaebi's fur turned pinkish red almost like it was flushed from embarrassment. "I, uh-I mean-mhh!" It flinched suddenly as if hit by some unseen force. It turned into itself slightly, a small galaxy appearing in its hands. "My...My apologies d-dear constellations! I-I, uh...I will begin right now!"

With that you saw its horns elongate, becoming almost as big as the rest of its body.

A shiver raced down your spine, blood roaring in your ears.

You knew what would happen.

"This is stupid." The lawyer muttered, standing and quickly grabbing the contract you had all but forgotten about. "I am afraid I am unable to stay to this childish theatric, until next time we meet."

Chin-Mae flinched, pushing his chair back as he began to stand up to stop the lawyer. "Now wait a minute we aren't fini-"

Quick as lighting you reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder before roughly pushing him back down, your fingers digging into his shoulder with a level of savagery and roughness he didn't think you possessed. Any protests he tried to make were silenced by your palm quickly being pressed over his mouth, not letting a single sound escape him. You pushed his head to look at you, your fingers digging into his cheek and jaw hard enough to leave bruises.

He grabbed your wrist, trying to pull your hand away, only to freeze in place when his eyes met yours.

You didn't think you wanted to know what he saw in them. 

'Don't. Move' You mouthed to him, not even a whisper escaping your lips.

[I need you to listen to me!]

A shot rang through-

Then the screaming began.

Several more shots rang out-.

The screams stopped as multiple heavy objects hit the ground.

A leg landed on your table, spraying you with blood.

Your palm muffled what pathetic noises Chin-Mae made, his trembling hands gripping your sleeve in a bruising grip.

Though your iron-like grip on his mouth kept Chin-Mae looking at you, his pulse thump thump thumping like a war drum beneath your fingers, you couldn't stop yourself from looking.

It was like a car crash, you couldn't look away. Your eyes wandered around, unable to settle on one specific thing; From the sight of blood stained immaculate floor, to the multiple limbs scattered around the place like morbid decorations, to the bodies of those who had tried to run laying on the floor. They were surprisingly still alive, writing soundlessly as they tried to stop the bleeding. You glanced at where the lawyer had gone to, only to find him alive with a missing leg.

[I..Did I do good? Yes?]

Slowly, you let go of Chin-Mae's shoulder, motioning for him to stay quiet with your hand. You waited until he nodded, before pulling away your palm from his mouth, his hands still gripping your forearm.

His chest rose to hiccup and you were prepared to slam your hand back over his mouth...but he held it it, biting his lip hard enough to make it bleed. A stray tear slowly rolled down his cheek, his trembling hands bound to leave bruises on your arm.

[Then, I-]

The Dokkaebi coughed, its voice returning to normal. "I have to inform you that...that the free service of this planetary system has ended. As of right now you will have to pay for your lives." It looked up, as if listening to someone.

Evidently it wasn't something nice, as a moment later it visibly flinched into itself, almost hugging the galaxy to its chest. "Ri-right, we are already behind schedule!" It began fumbling with something in the galaxy you couldn't see, sweat condensing on its fur in visible drops.

You blinked, a small window emerging in front of your eyes.

[The main scenario has arrived!]

[Main Scenario #1 — Proof of Value]

Category: Main

Difficulty: F

Clear Conditions: Kill one or more living creatures

Time Limit: 30 minutes

Compensation: 300 coins

Failure: Death

You stared at the screen before raising your head enough so you could look around with just your eyes, your thoughts running a mile a minute. Not a single person dared to move a muscle, afraid that doing so would draw the furry fairy's wrath even when the game had already started. You knew you had to be careful too, you weren't the protagonist of TWSA or ORV, and without any powers the information you possessed would only take you so far.

Wait...attributes!

Quietly you whispered 'Attribute Window' under your breath, half expecting to be met with an error message.

Only you didn't receive anything at all.

What?

Turning on your phone once again you scrolled through TWSA, a shiver racing down your spine as you found yourself reading through nearly ten chapters in less than a minute. Then you quickly switched over to ORV, hoping to find something or for something to happen when you read it, though you were unsure how much this information would help you considering you weren't in a train car. But it had worked for Dokja, and you had read it as well...so why wasn't it working for you?

[The Dokkaebi smiled faintly as it became transparent and disappeared into the next space.]

You glanced up at the Dokkaebi. It was still floating in the air, watching the people in the restaurant as if they were the predator and it was the prey. Why? Surely it knew how much power it had over you? And why hadn't it disappeared after giving the announcement? Bihyung had done that in ORV...wait!

You nearly facepalmed, this wasn't Bihyung! It only took you a few seconds to scroll through ORV before you found the creature most resembling the one in front of you: Youngki, the low-level Dokkaebi who took over when Bihyung had been busy. When he had first appeared he didn't know how to show messages; it would make sense why you weren't getting any notifications, he probably didn't know how to turn them on.

But why wasn't Bihyung here? Wasn't he the one streaming in Seoul?

You would have to search for answers to those questions later, right now you had to survive.

You checked the clock, only a single minute had passed, yet you knew if you didn't do something you wouldn't have much time left. In ORV Youngki was a pushover, and now that you had TWSA, you had a better chance of making a deal with him like Dokja had made with Bihyung. And more importantly, you knew how this game worked.

You wouldn't survive playing by the house's rules.

You glanced at the lobster tank, the water had been dyed a scarlet red as the two lobster munched on some unfortunate person's arm.

Then you looked around at the people, every single one of them frozen stock still like statues. Without someone to spark the fear in their hearts to make them act, they would all die. You doubted there were any chuuni in the restaurant to incite the violence as there had been in the train...If you didn't act, you would be no better than them, but could you live with yourself after knowingly sentencing these people to death? How would that make you any better than the monsters or the constellations?

Chin-Mae's trembling pulled you out of your thoughts. Though his hands still clutched your arm like a lifeline and he stared off into space beyond you, the look in his eye told you that it wasn't fear that made his arms shake, but rage.

You made up your mind.

People would die regardless, but in this apocalypse only those willing to fight had a chance of survival.

"Chin-Mae, listen to me." You gently slapped his cheek, cursing to yourself when he continued to stare past you into oblivion, consumed by whatever war was happening in his head. "This is a bad situation, but if you want to see Junior again, you have to listen to me." You hissed, and that got his attention better than a kick in the balls could.

Was it manipulative to use her against Chin-Mae? Maybe, but what choice did you have?

"Really?" Chin-Mae asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You hummed instead of answering and pointed to the lobster tank. "See that?"

He followed your finger with his eyes and nodded when he saw the unlucky crustaceans. You asked him to look at the scenario conditions again, and you could clearly see him reach the same conclusion you had; it never said the living thing had to be human.

You quickly told him your plan in hushed whispers, "Do you understand?" You asked as you pulled your other hand away from him, his fingers lingering on the fabric of your clothes before he let go.

"Ye-Yes." You nodded as he answered, before reaching down to your boot. You grasped the handle before quickly pulling out the knife hidden there, offering it to Chin-Mae.

"Huh?!" Chin-Mae sputtered as he looked at the blade, the metal glinting under the restaurant's lights. "Why-uh...why do you have this?"

You shrugged your shoulder; Now wasn't the time to delve into your skeleton stuffed closet just to answer that question. "I'll tell you later, now shh." You shushed him and urged him to concentrate on the plan, waiting for him to nod in confirmation before you stood up, one hand reaching into your pocket to feel the comforting cold steel of a second blade hidden there.

You felt something at the back your mind tingle, but it disappeared before you could figure out what it was.

Taking a final moment to prepare yourself mentally, you began walking towards the furry fairy. You passed the old lawyer on your way towards it, his silent begging for help with his eyes amusing some dark part of you. Any good person would have tried to help...But you had to concentrate on the living.

After all, you couldn't turn back time, you only had one shot at this.

"Hey, fluffy!" You called, garnering the attention of every pair of eyes in the room, coming to stand as close to the floating creature as you could while still keeping a safe distance.

"Huh, whah?!" It turned around so quick you were surprised it's neck didn't snap. "Are yo-ah- are you talking to me?"

Were there any other furry fairies around? You wondered to yourself, but you quickly realized you had said that out loud as dusty pink patches quickly spread all over his body. "Say," You quickly began, hoping a change of topic would cover up your verbal blunder. "You're new to this streamer business, no?"

Your words made the Dokkaebi jump so hard his horns nearly touched the ceiling. "Wha-how-why-how do you-" He sputtered as he flew down to be right in front of you, the galaxy clutched tightly to his chest like he was a child with a toy.

You couldn't hold back a snort at that thought, quickly waving off Youngki's confused questions. "Well for one, you haven't enabled notifications and messages." You informed him, "I'm certain the constellations would like for us to know what they have to say." You added, aiming to light a small fire under his ass.

The dusty pink patches on Youngki's fur became dark red as he fumbled around with the miniature galaxy in his hands, "I, I, I am so sorry- I" You could see several stars in the miniature galaxy blinking in sync, as if laughing at the pint sized pipsqueak as he stuttered out more apologies, flushing an even deeper shade of red as he realized he didn't know how to do it.

"The 'on' button should be somewhere around...there." You tried to help him, motioning with your hand vaguely to the center of the galaxy in his hand as you recalled reading something about it in TWSA.

After a few moments he seemed to have gotten it working, a low sound of accomplishment leaving him as messages began popping up.

A sharp pain bloomed behind your eyes. You groaned and clutched your head, willing your eyes to stay open as message after message appeared before you. The novels never mentioned anything about the messages making your head hurt...

[#Yo-7623 channel is open]

[The constellations have entered]

[Your reading speed has increased due to the effect of the exclusive attribute '?????']

[You can't activate the Attribute Window]

[Exclusive skill, 'From the Shadows Lv. 1' has been activated in the background]

[You are one step closer to the conditions to use the exclusive skill '????? Lv. ?']

[You are close to the conditions to use the exclusive skill 'Genesis Lv. 1']

[Several Constellations laugh at the Dokkaebi 'Youngki']

[Several Constellations are curious about you]

You waved away the messages with an irritated sound leaving you, the pain behind your eyes disappearing as soon as you did so. You would have to look at those later.

Shaking your head to chase away the lingering pain you turned back to look at Youngki, who was now looking at you with apprehension. "Now then," You began, "Do you what's the fastest killer of infant streams like yours?"

Youngki shook his head like a little kid and floated just a bit closer to you, staring at you as if you had all the answers to the universe, the galaxy still held close to his chest.

"Boredom." You spoke innocently, "Now, I don't know about the constellations, but no sponsor of mine would ever wait half an hour for nothing interesting to happen." You explained, putting your other hand into your pocket, the very embodiment of nonchalance. "Matter of fact, they'd be gone after ten minutes and wouldn't waste their time with you ever again." Something dark inside you found it amusing how the Dokkaebi's face grew more and more horrified as you continued to speak.

[The constellation who likes to change gender nods at your words]

The message scared the little guy even more than your words had; you were certain he would've had a heart attack the moment the message had appeared if he could.

"Fortunately for you, I'm something of an entertainer myself." The devil himself would have been jealous of the charming smile you gave Youngki, "So, how would the mighty constellations like raise the stakes?"

You were playing a dangerous game; like Russian roulette, only the constellations didn't need a gun, bullets, or a kick in the ass from lady luck to cut your life short. You couldn't make any mistakes, after all, there was no way to rewind time.

[You are one step away from being able to use the exclusive skill 'Genesis Lv. 1']

[Several constellations want you to elaborate]

"It's simple really," You shrugged. "A Constellation may choose to take off three minutes off the clock, in exchange for say...a 100 coins added to the overall reward." You explained, adding that the overall time left couldn't be less that 3 minutes, you were human after all.

[Several constellations look at one another]

"Or don't." You shrugged, pulling your hands out of your pockets, the hidden switch blade grasped tightly in your closed fist. "There's no shame in admitting you are afraid to lose your money~" You teased—

[The constellation who likes to change gender laughs at your boldness]

— It was the boldest, and dumbest, thing you could have ever done.

[A constellation has agreed to your terms]

Fortunately for you, fortune favored the bold.

[The time limit has been reduced: 27:24 → 24:24]

[The Compensation has been increased: 300 → 400 coins]

You smirked to yourself, but the smirk fell quickly when a different message popped up.

[The clear conditions have been changed: Kill TWO or more living creatures]

You cursed to yourself. You had known this might happen, yet you still hadn't expected it; a stray line in TWSA echoed in your mind as if to mock you: [The thrill seekers will always ask for more death]

That last message was like a fatal crack in the dam, and soon many more messages flooded your vision, pain blooming in your head as you watched the time rapidly decrease as the compensation increased and clear conditions changed. The other people watched you with growing worry and horror, yet even this wasn't enough to spark their survival instincts into action.

By the end of it, the compensation had risen to 900 coins, the time had decreased to just 9 minutes and 20 seconds, and the kill requirement had risen to 6 or more.

You hummed as you stared at the holographic screen deep in thought. You should temper your greed, yet as you looked up at the Dokkaebi, your eyes positively glinting, you knew you couldn't resist the tempting pull of fooling the 'Divine'.

"You know, if you wanted to make this even more interesting..." You paused, before shaking your head in an exaggerated motion. "No," You waved your hand dismissively, turning on your heel. "I don't think you could afford it."

You were only able to take a single step before the furry fairy had zoomed around to face you at the speed of light, stuttering out pleas to stop. A message from the, no doubt irritated, constellations popped up, only to be waved away without being read. "What?" You asked innocently, a new message appearing before your eyes.

[Some constellations are insulted, and wish to know your offer]

"Double the rewards and you can half the current time by half." You said, before quickly adding. "Without increasing the amount of creatures we have to kill, there are only so many people here." You waved your hand around in a vague gesture. "I swear to you, this will cause quite the commotion, and wouldn't that be entertaining?"

Right as you asked, a holographic video feed popped in the center of the restaurant, screams filling the silent restaurant, showing people killing each other all over the country.

[Die! Die!]

[No, please!]

[Don't hurt me!]

You could tell the specific moment when every single person figured out what you were doing. The collective fear in the restaurant so strong you could feel it on your tongue as you breathed. "So, what do you say?" You asked as if you didn't notice anything, looking up at the small Dokkeabi.

[Multiple constellations consider you a fool]

"Maybe I am," You admitted, "But fools make for great stories."

Your nonchalant answer seemed to shock the people into finding their own. Almost immediately after you had finished people began shouting:

"Don't listen to them!"

"Damn brat do you want us all killed!"

"Please spare me!"

"I don't want this!"

[The constellations accept your offer]

You didn't even wait for the next pop up windows to open, "Chin-Mae, now!" You ordered, your voice silencing all others. Something inside your skull shuddered, a thought that didn't belong to you whispering in your ears:

[The exclusive skill 'From the Shadows Lv. 1' has finished preparing, execute?]

Yes.

[The exclusive skill 'From the Shadows Lv. 1' has been executed]

A shiver raced down your spine, you could feel it in your bones, like something in the bedrock of the world had snapped.

A second later something black flew towards you. You just barely managed to catch it, slamming it violently on to the table, black sludge exploding over your hand, clothes and the people seated there.

...

[You have achieved the ‘First Kill’ achievement!]

[You have killed a living creature]

[100 coins have been earned as additional compensation.]

[You have killed a living creature]

[100 coins have been earned as additional compensation.]

...

Message upon message appeared before your eyes, you were quick to wave them all away before they made you head explode. You stepped back, the seated patrons staring at the crushed lobster eggs staining the tablecloth before looking up at you in bewilderment.

[Several constellations are displeased]

"Oh don't be like that," You rolled your eyes, holding up your hand, still stained black from lobster caviar. "The rules never stated that I had to kill humans, and lobster eggs are living creatures." You wiped off the black sludge staining your hand on the less noticeable portion of your clothes, knowing you would need to find a change of clothes after the scenario was over; blood and lobster sludge did not look good on you. "It isn't my fault you left the rules so vague."

[The constellation ‘Children of Mischief and Chaos’ are impressed by your scheme]

[The constellation who likes to change gender is impressed by your wit]

By mere chance you glanced to your side, only to see Chin-Mae standing in front of the lobster tank, the female lobster wriggling in his hold as it tried to protect the valuable eggs held under her tail. His other hand held the eggs, yet you could see it shaking, all of his attention concentrated on the videos of slaughter that were still playing above you.

"Chin-Mae, you moron, destroy tho!-"

You slapped your palm over your mouth as soon as your voice had registered in your brain, but it was in vain.

Every single person turned to Chin-Mae, ready to descend upon him like rabid dogs.

What have you done...

"Get him!"

[The constellations laugh at you]

[hometoursandotherstuff]

You know how I love offbeat properties and I found this seller's For-Sale-By-Owner ad on Zillow. He started building the home in 1969, in Eureka, California, and it's been under construction for 43 years! It's a French ornamented cathedral Gothic, with all custom ornaments, molds and scaffolding techniques. This mansion is based on Newport, Rhode Island style and spirit from the 19th Century.

This is what it's supposed to look like - The Vision.

And, in 43 yrs., this is what he's done so far. He's asking $4.5M. Now, he has been living in it, so you can live in the finished part. The house is being sold furnished, and what furnishings! Read what he wrote about them below:

"Also for sale here are 1500 sq. ft of the ultimate grade palatial antique Italian marquetry, veneer and solid wood furniture, ranging from console tables and mirrors; 10 different sizes of round antique tables, up to a 12' x 6' museum-piece dining table, various rare cabinets, marquetry, upholstered chairs, couches, china and other cabinets, solid gold (plated) grandfather clock and two huge antique chandeliers, all worth over $300k on the market now and arguably TWICE that!"

This outer door is amazing.

Here's a gargoyle and other ornamentation that still has to go on the house.

But, look at this - it says the exterior designs are ready for installation "when the lawsuit is over." So, the property is involved in a lawsuit, too? (Check the blog - I found the lawsuit papers and posted it.)

There's so much stuff here.

This room is done. It must be a ballroom. I don't know what to make of all this. This looks like the Romanoff's place.

This must be a music room. There's a harpsicord and a harp in here.

Look at these walls. He says the walls are hand done- are these the actual walls?

The walls are hand painted according to the description.

Here's a mantel waiting to be installed.

This is going to be the kitchen.

The gold double sink.

I don't know if this is an old picture of the original inspiration for this home, but it's definitely a representation of the home itself.

This is an amazing fireplace.

Another beautiful fireplace.

He's using the bedroom, but it's not finished.

I'm disappointed in this bathroom. Maybe it's just temporary?

He has a lot of photos of the furniture and these are really primo antiques. So, this would be one of the dining rooms.

This looks like a brand new bedroom set. Looks like a furniture store that used to be near me called Roma Furniture.

The chandelier in the ballroom that he says is included in the sale.

One of the sitting rooms.

Nice inlaid table.

There's a lot of furniture. If you want to see it all, click on the link b/c he's posted 100 photos. But, I'm very confused.

The property measures 6 acres and there are "massive fall color and rose gardens, 20,000 plantings, plus 10,000 daffodil, iris, lily, etc. Bulbs are spread over 6 acres, still there mostly, alive and colorful. Plus, hundreds of valuable landscaping sculptures are included."

[chemicalresearchupdates]

Console Table Market: Crafting Elegance - An In-Depth Look at Artisanal and Handcrafted Designs

The Console Table Market is estimated for 2023-2030 for the forecast period, as highlighted in a new report published by Coherent Market Insights.

Market Overview:

Console tables are primarily used as decorative furniture pieces that provide ample storage space in the entryway, living room or hallway. They come in various styles, designs and materials to suit different decor needs.

Market Dynamics:

The console table market is expected to witness significant growth owing to increasing emphasis on home decor and beautification. Consumers are increasingly opting for console tables to add style and functionality to their living spaces. Moreover, the growing popularity of mixed matched home decor styles among millennials is further driving the demand for versatile console tables. Changing consumer lifestyles and rising disposable incomes have also boosted the sales of premium and designer console tables across the globe. The market players are focusing on new product innovations to capitalize on the burgeoning demand.

Console Table Market Drivers: Increasing adoption of modern interior design and home décor

With the growing trend of modern interior design and home décor, the demand for console tables has seen a significant rise over the past few years. Console tables have become an important part of modern living room, entryway, or hallway décor as they provide convenient storage space as well as enhance the overall aesthetic appeal. The ease of storing keys, mail, electronics, small artwork etc on a well-designed console table has made them a must-have furniture item for many households. The availability of console tables in different shapes, sizes, colors and styles to match any interior also drives their increased popularity.

Console Table Market Drivers: Rising disposable income and desire for home upgrades

As disposable incomes continue rising globally, more consumers are willing to invest in upgrading and renovating their homes. Console tables are often one of the first furniture purchases made when planning home upgrades. Their sleek design fits nicely into contemporary homes while also fulfilling practical storage needs. The growing popularity of eclectic, art-inspired home décor trends is another influence encouraging consumers to add personality through unique and aesthetically appealing furniture pieces like console tables. Affordability of mass-produced console tables compared to bespoke furniture also allows more homeowners to indulge in contemporary designs for their living spaces.

Console Table Market Restrain: Increased preference for modular furniture

One of the major restraining factors affecting the console table market growth is the rising popularity of multifunctional and modular furniture that offers more flexibility of usage. Modern homeowners are gravitating towards furniture pieces like ottomans, storage benches and coffee tables with built-in storage that serve dual purposes of seating and storage. This reduces the dedicated need for standalone console tables in many living room layouts. The preference for space-saving modular designs is prominent among homeowners with smaller spaces who want versatile furniture to maximize utility from available floor area. Unless console table designs also start offering modular versatility, their demand could be impacted.

Console Table Market Opportunity: Growth in real estate industry and new home construction

The steady increase in new residential construction projects globally presents a promising opportunity for the console table market to grow. As more families purchase new homes or upgrade to larger living spaces, the need for complete living room furnishings including console tables naturally increases. Developer focus on open floor plan designs and hybrid living-dining areas also favors console tables that can double as serve as a functional storage or display unit in common areas. The real estate boom in Asia Pacific and Middle Eastern countries with rising affluence particularly provides a lucrative customer base for furniture retailers. Strategic sales partnerships with developers could help console table manufacturers tap into the residential construction market growth potential.

Console Table Market Trends: Emergence of eco-friendly and sustainable materials

One key trend currently shaping the console table industry is the rising consumer preference and increasing regulations around utilizing sustainable and eco-friendly furniture materials. Both individual buyers and businesses are actively looking to purchase plant-based, recyclable and low-emission products. To capitalize on this shift, console table manufacturers are innovating with materials like bamboo, reclaimed wood, recyclable plastics and bio-resins that have lower environmental impact compared to tropical hardwoods or other intensive industrial processes. Such greener tables are also often competitively priced which helps drive wider market adoption. As sustainability becomes a mainstream consumer demand, eco-friendly materials and production practices will play a bigger role in the future success of this industry.

[lovrre]

Baby protect me<3

Word count: 2k

Summary: On Joel’s birthday two men try assaulting you, when Joel takes care of them ,you realize how much you like the violence And Joel realizes he’s not over his trauma.

Warnings: slightly dark fic, a little Angst, attempted SA, cursing, sadistic themes, no smut but slightly suggestive themes 🌝

Author note: I’m mostly likely gonna rewrite this one later but I just really wanted to post something. So enjoy for now, Suggestion box  IS OPEN!

You awoke in bed next to Joel for the third time this week. You watched his chest rise and fall like you normally did when you woke up first. You liked it, you liked him, apart from you hoped for more from the relationship than sex, but Joel tried his best to be distant with his emotions. Sometimes you guys would seem like a couple and other days not even friends. Joel sits up suddenly in bed, small sweat droplets sliding down his body.

You quickly sit up beside him rubbing your hand up and down his arm trying to console him “you ok baby?” you ask worried he takes a couple of labored breaths before speaking “I gotta get some air” he says plainly getting out the bed and walking towards the door. You laid back and enjoyed watching his sweaty shirtless body leave the room. When he returned, you realized you had accidentally fallen back asleep, you woke up to Joel sitting on the edge of the bed putting on his clothes. “Where you going” you say groggy rubbing your eyes “I think I'm gonna go for a walk” he says stuffing his foot in his shoe. “ Nightmare?” You ask, sitting up on your elbow. He doesn’t reply,“ are they about-” he cuts you off “ DON’T” he snaps. There’s an awkward silence before you speak “you don’t have to be rude” you say angrily, rolling over so your back is facing him

Joel opens his mouth like he about to say something, then closes it and walks out the room. You hear him leave, but don’t say anything. When the sun comes up you stretch hoping to feel Joel’s hard body next to you despite still being a little upset with him. But when you run your hands over his side of the bed you feel nothing but the cold mattress. You can tell by his blanket that he never came back to bed last night, mostly likely sleeping on the couch.

~~~

After getting dressed, you walk into the kitchen, Joel is sitting at the kitchen table reading an old book. You sit across from him quietly for a second before talking. “Good morning, you still grumpy?” you ask, watching him pretend to be focused on reading. “ Joel?” You wave a hand by his face, Joel stays quiet for a second before huffing in defeat looking up from his book

“ I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, last night I’m sorry” he says sincerely reaching over the table to hold your hand, he rubs his thumb slowly over your knuckles “you know I’m no good with emotions a stuff, but I’m working on it ”He says letting out a deep breath.

A big grin takes over your face “Well good you apologized because now I can give you your present ”. Joel looks surprised as you jump up from your chair and go to reach under the kitchen cabinet for Joel’s birthday gift.

“How did you-“ you cut him off, “Close your eyes!” you yell, you wait for Joel to close his eyes before you hid the gift behind your back and walk towards him. “Hold out your hand” you say, try to contain your excitement. You place a big metal cylinder of Café Bustelo in his hand, You put the red mug you got to go with it on the table. “ Open!” You say excitingly. Joel opens his eyes, it takes him a second to realize what it is, “is this real?” He asks surprised examine the container “yep, 100% unopened espresso, none of that nasty homemade shit they sell at the market” you laugh “what the hell did you trade to get this…” he says opening the top “no that much actually the younger ones don’t care for coffee” you saying sitting on the edge of the table. “It still has the seal on it” he says surprised looking up at you, “I told you it’s unopened” you laugh at his giddy reaction over coffee

Joel laughs to himself before pulling you down by your waist onto his lap. He places the coffee tin on the table” is this mine too” he asks pointing to the big Mug “mmh” you smile, moving a small piece of hair his forehead. “Happy birthday baby” you say kissing his cheek, “Thank you” he smiles placing a kiss on your lips.

“Let me make us some of that coffee” Joel says, moving you off his lap, so he can make the coffee. “You know what would be good with coffee, cake!” you say clapping your hands together

“what, you got some?” Joel questions “no, but I can make some… tonight ”. You say excitedly “I’d like to see that” he muffles coughs under his breath. You elbow him in his ribs, making him laugh “you will”.

~~~~~~

Later that Day, you decided to try to go to the street vendors and see if you could scrabble up enough ingredients for a small cake. “I’ll be right back” you yell out by the door, zipping up your coat. “Where you going?” Joel asks, poping up from around the corner. “I’m just going to the market vendors” you say, ready to leave. “ It’s drizzling and The suns almost gone, I don’t think they’re out there”

Joel says, pointing to the window covered in rain droplet’s. “Well I just wanna see if they have something, I’ll be back soon ”you say getting ready to open be door. “ok I’m coming with you” Joel says turning to get his jacket “it’ll only be a minute promise” you say giving him a quick smile before opening the door “be careful!” Joel yells before you close the door.

~~~

Joel was right, most of the vendors were gone except an old man selling shovels and a lady selling potatoes. Not wanting to go home empty-handed you thought you should try to go to someone you knew of who bakes. But you knew they would probably charge you more for it. You walk 5 minutes down the pathway and turn down an alley you knew he lived on. You knocked one of the doors hoping it was the right one, you a stepped back looking at the rain hit your shoes as you waited for someone to answer the door.

A tall nice looking young man answered the door maybe 27or 26 definitely young when the world went to shit. By the big scar from his eyebrow to cheek, you knew he was the baker everyone spoke of. “Hi not trying to bother you, but I wondered if you could sell me some ingredients for a cake about… this big” you say showing him the size with your hands. You laugh at your own gesture, “Are there not any vendors you can bother?” He says scrunch up his face in disgust showing his rotten looking teeth.

“Ain’t none left out” you reply not as humorous as before. “uhhh I guess I can, but it’s gonna cost you about 35” he says giving you a creepy smiling that made you insanely uncomfortable “fuck that, for two eggs and some flower, 30 max” you low balled, you had forty but wasn’t willing to spend it all on a small cake “you out here by yourself? ” he asks, looking down the ally to see if someone else was with you

“no I’m not” you reply quickly hoping he doesn’t try anything stupid “so who you out here wit because I don’t see-“. You cut him off “are you gonna sell me the damn eggs or not” you say, bringing back his focus to the deal “35, final offer” he yells out you stay quiet for a second “Deal” you say grudgingly.

“Pay upfront” he says, holding out in a grabbing motion. “No, half” you say irritated “ok that works” he says looking down the ally again you count out 20 but hand him 17. He walks back inside for a second before coming back with a similar looking man, only older. The man looks you up and down like he’s plotting something “yeah she works”. You look down at his hands, there were no ingredients in sight just a rope. The old man looks down the ally “shi-“ before you can react the older one grabs you trying to pull you in the house.

You punch him in the face, making him lose his grip on you. You fall back on the concrete hard, You try to get up but slip on the wet ground. Before you can try to get up again, a fist connects to your face making the side of your face throb. The younger one grabs your arms, trying to tie you up. “Please no” you scream attempting to kick the older one away, “Stop moving Bitch!” the younger one yells trying to knot the rope. You kick the older one again and miss. He punches you again square in your jaw. You feel blood trickling down your lip and tears sting your eyes, “fuck you!” You scream, trying to kick as the older attempts to pull off your pants. Your shoe connects to his jaw.

“BITCH” he hissed, stumbling back he quickly picked up a large loose brick and smashing it against your leg at full force. You scream out in pain and everything goes black, amidst the darkness you swear you could hear Joel’s voices. When you wake up a couple of minutes later from the continuous rain droplets hitting your face.

Your eyelids feel heavy, and your head pounding, you realize Your arms are free. In the distance, You see Joel on top of one of the men, his fist connecting with his face over and over again. Slowly sitting up, you wipe your eyes, confused if what you were seeing was real.

As soon as you stand up completely, you wince in pain trying to keep your leg from giving out. Looking over, you see one of the men covered in blood in the doorway of the house. You couldn’t tell which one because of how badly his face was beaten in. In his pocket was your 17 ration cards, you bend down carefully yanking the blood covered cards out his pocket. “Cunt!” You say spitting at the unrecognizable face. You slowly stepped over the man and limp over to Joel, who was still punching the man. Instead of intervening you watched for a second as Joel punched him again and again and, again, without mercy not noticing your presence . You had never seen someone fight so ruthlessly for before you, and deep down you liked it.

You watched the rain carry the man's blood down into the cracks in the ground. Walking directly behind Joel, you finally grabbed his shoulder, “j- Joel, you can sto-“ suddenly you feel dizzy and you collapse. Joel instantly catches you, his blood hands gripping into your shirt.

He holds you in his arms for a minute, his shaking hand coming up to move away the bloody pieces of hair stuck on your face. “I thought I lost you” he quietly repeats, caressing your face for a second before hoisting you up in his arms and fire man carrying you away from the bloody scene.

~~~~

Two days have passed since the attack, you have probably been awake a total of 5 hours. Mostly in and out of consciousness, sleeping in bed and eating the little bits of food Joel brought you. Waking up you felt a bit better than yesterday, you decide to get up. Limping to the bathroom, you see yourself for the first time in the mirror since the attack. You walk closer to the mirror, slowly turning your head to examine your face and all its bruises. The whole right side of your face was partially swollen and bruised. Your lip had been busted, a big gash on it close to the corner.

You touched your lip to see if it had scabbed some. You wince, pulling your hand back in pain. You hear footsteps behind you and jump back, making your legs buckle. Joel quick grabs your waist, keeping you from falling. “It’s just me y/n, you’re ok” Joel says helping you regain your balance. “ Sorry I thought- never mind” you say letting out a tired sigh, you hold on to the bathroom sink for a better balance. When Joel see’s you're stabled, he finally lets go of you.

“You need to be in bed, your leg isn’t healed yet ”he says look at you with concern in his eyes. “ I thought I was feeling better” you laugh out, limping back towards the bed. “ I hate seeing you like this y/n” Joel says sitting down next to you, “ what do you mean I look great ”You say gesturing to your swollen face while positioning yourself up on some pillows. Joel lets out a small laugh “ at least you still got your humor” he states, grabbing the mug you gave him off the dresser before handing it to you.

“ At least…- what’s this ?” You ask looking down at the cup “it's coffee, to wake you up a bit” he says “thanks you” you whisper taking a sip the hot coffee stings your lip. There’s a beat of silence before he speaks,“ I should’ve been there earlier” Joel mumbles looking at you with tired eyes before wiping his face and sighing in his hands. “ There’s nothing else you could have done” you say, putting the coffee back down on the night stand.

“No, y/n There was… I followed you, it was late and raining, I didn’t want anything to happen, so I followed, when you passed the market I followed you to that alley. I saw you there smiling with that man a-and I don’t know what I thought but… I left you, I regretted and when I turned back I saw-”

He cuts himself off looking at the ground angry distorting his face, his fist balling up tight.

You don’t respond right away, letting the words sink in before you answer. You run your hand up the side of his face, resting it there.

“ Did you like it?” You ask, staring intently at Joel, “like what?” He asked confused. “Did you like beating them bloody?” you ask, eyes never leave his search for a reaction. “Y/N I-I Couldn’t control m-“ he says slowly shaking his head as thought about the incident in detail swirl through his mind.

“yes or no” you ask again plainly “yes, I did but-“ you cut him off quickly “good, they fucking deserved it” you say angrily.

“Why did you do it baby tell my why you did it, I wanna hear you say it” you say desperately want to hear Joel’s reasoning. “ When I saw you like that… it was like I couldn’t see or feel anything but anger, I hadn’t even realized how bad it was until I heard your voice calling for me“. He says look back at you with tired eyes “I thought I had lost another person I cared for, I never wanted you to see me like that” he says with another stressed filled sigh “they deserved it, if you hadn’t come when you did…”

You takes a deep breath before talking again “all I know is when I woke up, the people who had hurt me were hurting as well and I Revel in the thought, of them knowing you killed them for me, to protect me, when nobody else would. You did nothing wrong baby you protected me”

Joel doesn’t say anything, just leaves a lazy kiss on your lips. You deepen the kiss ignoring the pain, pulling him closer, Joel cups the back of your head and you straddle him. He breaks the kiss for a second to kiss your forehead “I don’t ever wanna feel like that again” he says pain straining his voice.

[chiriwritesstuff]

Meet Me at the Farmers Market! - 6. All In

A Farmers Market! Joel AU x Confident! Plus Sized! F! Reader

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: What does a Contractor do in his spare time? Sell his wood carvings at the Saturday Farmers Market, of course! A Grumpy x Sunshine Joel Miller series collective of one-shots.

Chapter Rating: T

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: Mentions of a minor character death

Summary: A FaceTime call changes everything. This story takes place one year after the events of pt.1.

A/N: I knew when I first started to write for this series that I was always going to include Ellie, even if this series is based in a universe where the outbreak does not happen. I did fudge the ages a bit in regards to Sarah - she's in grad school in my universe in 2023, and Ellie is roughly about the same age she is in the game/series.

The point is, Ellie was always going to be endgame. This week's offering is a short one, but a small introduction to the inevitability of Ellie. It does touch upon a minor character passing away, so if you are not down with it, please move along.

Also. Sorry for the angst. I have a lot of plans for Christmas this year, so don't worry - It just needed a bit of a setup.

"Hey, Joel, remember when I told you about my best friend, Anna?"

Joel glances up from his book, reading glasses perched on his nose, a curious frown on his face. "Yeah? She's the one with—"

"Cancer," you interject, swiftly wiping your hands on your apron. You wave them in the air awkwardly, shaking your head as you nervously continue prepping dinner. Joel gives you a concerned look, raising an eyebrow as you flit around the kitchen. "Listen—she called me yesterday while I was at the nursery... she doesn't have much time left, and she wanted me to see her before—"

"I get it," Joel murmurs, dog-earing his place in the book and placing it on the coffee table. He walks over to you, enveloping you in an embrace, resting his chin on top of your head. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispers. "I know how much she means to you, it's fucked up."

You close your eyes, nodding silently, the tears you've been holding back begging for release. "Do you think you could come with me? To Washington? I really don't want to do this alone."

"Absolutely, baby. Anything. When do we need to leave?"

"Is tomorrow too soon?"

Joel sighs, the rumble resonating within you. "I'll have to check with Tommy, but I'm sure he'd do anything for you," he shoots you a look you can't quite read. "Come on, let's get packing."

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

The drive to Fred Hutch Cancer Center is quiet, with Joel taking the wheel despite your protests. "No matter where we are, I'll be the one drivin'," he scolds, shooing you as he places luggage into the trunk. Once inside, Joel connects your phone to Carplay, insisting that listening to Fleet Foxes is good for the soul. He sings along to 'Blue Ridge Mountain' and reaches for your hand across the console, his thumb soothing your skin. "Are you nervous, baby?"

"No."

"... do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk to me about that job on Smith Street," you silently plead, desperately wanting to change the topic. 

The plane ride from Austin-Bergstrom to Seatac, despite being only a few hours, was already harrowing enough. Your body refused to calm down, the anxiety about the inevitability of Anna's loss keeping you up for days after that fateful call. This is so incredibly fucked up, you cry to her as you refuse to meet her eyes through FaceTime, the vision of her frail body breaking your heart. You don't deserve this. What about Ellie? How has she been taking this?

Ellie. Your headstrong, brilliant goddaughter, your one true regret after moving to Austin. You left her high and dry, in her words, tears streaming down her face as she FaceTimes you in a rage after finding out you had abandoned your life in Seattle for Austin, Texas. "How could you just up and leave? Don't you care about me? What about Mom? How could you?!" she yells at you through the phone. "You promised her, you know? You promised me, Sunflower."

You shake your head, pulling yourself from the memory, suddenly realizing you haven't been completely forthcoming about all the reasons for this impromptu trip. "Joel, I need to tell you something."

"What is it, baby?"

"Anna has a daughter. She called me because-"

"Sunflower." He pulls over to the side of the interstate suddenly, his entire body turning to face you, a concerned look on his face. "Don't tell me-"

"When the time comes, I have to be there for her. For Ellie. I... I promised," you sadly whisper. "It's Anna's dying wish."

"... but what does that mean for us?" Joel worriedly replies, his face contorting into something resembling pain, sadness, and regret bundled up into one. It's unnerving, seeing him like this. "Are you planning on moving back here?"

"Joel, no. I... I know that I've only moved in a few months ago, and the whole prospect of promising something so monumental with your terminally ill best friend should have been something I was upfront with you about before getting serious with you, but..." You grasp his hands in yours. "Well, that's why I wanted you to come with me. I wanted you to meet her. She's an amazing kid, and I'll vouch for her for life."

"Baby," he stutters, his eyes silently pleading with yours. "I know I promised that I'll do anything for you, but this... this is a hard ask. I'm old, hell, Sarah's already in grad school... how old is she? I don't know if I'm ready to have another kid around-"

"She's fifteen, and I know, Joel. I-" 

"This changes everything, Sunflower. Hell, I didn't want to come off too strong, but..."

"I know, and I'm-"

"I was going to ask you to marry me," he interjects, his bittersweet smile tugging at your heart. "Planned it for this weekend, before... having to come here. You're everything to me, baby. I don't want anyone else... and if that means rolling with whatever life throws our way, then... I'm all in."

"Seriously?"

"Yes," he sighs deeply. "Till death do us part, right?" He gives you a small smile, planting a kiss on your forehead. "Listen, I get that Anna means a lot to you, and promises like that aren't ones we want to break. So, what's important to you is important to me." He takes a deep breath, revving up the ignition as he merges back onto the interstate. "I love you, okay?"

"Okay. I love you too, Joel. A lot. Ask me again, once we figure this out."

"Okay." Joel grins, his eyes locked on the road ahead. "Alright. Tell me about Ellie."

[venusinsilk]

Things I'm looking for at the flea market this morning-

-shelves!!! Any storage solutions, in particular things that are wall mounted. Wall mounted cabinets would be cool too. I maxed out all the closet space in this apartment and I still have boxes all over the floor that need to be unpacked.

-furniture made of bamboo or rattan. Chairs and small console tables, small and lightweight. My space is limited and I have to be able to move my furniture easily.

-beautiful statement shelf to place in front of my large north-facing window for displaying my plants. This will be the first thing ppl see when they enter my space.

-rugs, especially a big one for my front room. I have a vision of having a memory foam pad underneath a pretty rug, which is comfortable enough to lay on, maybe with a friend 🤫 and I want to have floor pillows to pair with the low coffee table that belonged to my grandmother in this space. For dining and hanging out on the floor, but make it super comfy! I love rugs with tassels and bright colors. There is a rug dealer at this flea market but his prices are usually more than $250, pls put cheap price tag vibes in the air for me if you're reading this!

-plant hangers, macrame and/or beaded

-a bakers rack or a kitchen island that can double as a dining table. This one is a long shot, but I'd rather buy this used than search for something on wayfair or ikea. I've already been looking online and I really don't like anything I've found so far. I need to expand my kitchen into the adjacent dining room if I ever hope to take baking orders again, and I'd love to have a functional workspace in this apartment. I need a good work bench, and being able to clear it off and seat guests there would be a bonus. I love hosting and I hope I can find something that works for my space...

I made this list to hold myself accountable. I am NOT to purchase any smalls (decorative glassware) or clothes!!!! I do not need more clothes!! Mutuals if you see me update this with clothes pls wag a finger at me in shame!

[paintingpuff]

Ooh the backstory for the comic sounds so cool! Could you maybe post the short story?

Sure, I'll put it under the cut!

Keep in mind the comic is an adaptation so the story had to go through some changes.

File info says this was made during quarantine which definitely explains why I can't remember writing it

My sister--and most people in our village, in fact--think that my child is not my own. One would assume it was because of the incident a month after my daughter’s birth, where I walked into her room only to find a fairy flying out the window, a bundle in her arms. 

But that’s not why my sister thinks my daughter is fae, because I didn’t tell anyone about that incident. Instead, my sister says it’s because my child is acting odd. It’s a logic I can’t understand, since all children are strange to me. 

I love the way they approach the world with a mix of naivete and eagerness. I’ve even met children that don’t realize that a scrape or scratch is supposed to hurt until you look alarmed. They have no understanding of common sense, because everything they do is for the first time in their life. They’re honest, harsh, and innocent in a manner that is gradually clogged up with new responsibilities and knowledge as they grow older.

Their world is limited, and as such they completely permeate it. It’s fragile and destructive in a way I don’t think can be replicated, not after that window of early childhood has passed.

I see it in every child, and my daughter does not seem any more unusual. But my sister insists that there is a difference, and shakes her head whenever she thinks it’s relevant. 

 My child has broken the table. Not much, she just jumped on the top one too many times and its leg splintered. I’m not going to get it replaced, or get it fixed, or at least not immediately.

She got in a fight with some other children in town, they said something that she just couldn’t understand and she lashed out with a stick. The other kid only had a red mark on his skin from the impact, at least. 

My daughter hates being around others, and spends most of her time back home, where it’s quiet. I once tried taking her to the market and she broke down crying, sitting in the middle of the road. I consoled her there, crouching in the dirt path, and tried ignoring the judgemental stares from people passing by. She would rather spend hours on end at the edge of the forest. I don’t let her explore on her own, and when I’m gone the others say she always stands just before the trees become too dense and stares off, wistfully.

She’s a picky eater, but a very hungry one. I can’t find a consistent set of taste, and each new meal feels like a gamble of my time, but I have to take those chances because I can’t have her eating only eggs and milk for each meal of the day.

She doesn’t like being touched, reacts to my fingers as if they’ve given her rashes, and for the longest time I felt lost because I didn’t know how else to comfort her. 

(I found my ways eventually. When she gets upset, I take my grandmother’s woolen scarf from its rack and wrap her in it. She loves running her hands along the threads.)

After long days of gathering food and walking from errand to errand I’m woken up in the middle of the night by her, and we both struggle to go back to sleep from her nightmares. When she was a baby she wailed as loud as she could, because she knew doing that would bring me to her. Now I’m afraid that I won’t hear her and she’ll think I left her alone on purpose. My friends comment on the bags under my eyes always getting darker. I know they’re trying to remind me that it’s a bad thing.

They call her a changeling, something that has replaced my real baby. The child I gave birth to is out in those woods, the stories say, maybe dancing with fairies or being sacrificed to the devil. But in the meantime, they say I am left with a parasitical replica, a creature that saps me of my energy, food and time. 

I sometimes wonder if they’ve ever had a child before.

I do my best to brush off the people in town, but my sister is more insistent. I know she’s just being protective since my husband’s passing, but something snapped in me with the way she spoke. I yelled that the stories of the fae were all hogwash, and she asked me how I could be so sure. So I told her the truth:

I had already seen the fairy.

I had returned home early from the market, and had seen my daughter sitting at the edge of the forest, like always. Her hand was raised to the air, a single finger stretched parallel to the ground. This didn’t seem out of the ordinary to me, and I was about to head back inside and prepare dinner, when I saw a flicker of movement. 

A tiny sparrow emerged from behind a tree, and settled on my daughter’s finger.

It was difficult to see her face from my angle, but just from the outline of her cheeks I could tell she was grinning from ear to ear. The bird whistled to her, and the child gave a raspy, unpracticed melody in response. She moved her hand around carefully, not wanting to startle the bird, but a part of me knew that something as simple as a jolt wouldn’t make the bird go away. 

The bird was only there for a few minutes before it took off and vanished back into the forest. So my child sat up, stained in green but not caring, and ran back to the house. I entered shortly afterwards, acting casual. She didn’t know I saw her, and she didn’t tell me about the bird then, so I can only wonder how many times the bird had come before. 

Still, gradually the two of us came to a common understanding: she figured out I knew about the bird,  and I knew that she knew.

I hadn’t fully realized we’d had this agreement until my daughter stepped into my house, sharp distress twisting her face. She raised her tiny fingers to show blood spilled on them, but not from any wound of her own. She told me the bird had been missing feathers, had perched on her finger with only one leg, and its song was weaker than before. Her bird calls had already greatly improved, so she imitated the bird’s pained song for me, just to make sure I understood.

She wanted to follow the bird into the woods, see that it’s alright. I crouched down with the scarf, wrapped her in it, and told her that I would find the bird myself. 

So I wandered through the dark woods, the sun already starting to set, a torch in hand and a cloak on my shoulders. I heard a whistling in the woods, and the melody rangs familiar. The bird was still singing, and it didn't sound any weaker, but my daughter has always been more attentive to details; I trusted her. 

I kept walking, kept following the bird, and for brief flickers in the treetops I saw flaps of wings. It was flying slower than usual. It ducked behind a tree, and when I stepped around to keep my eye on the bird, I saw a child. 

It was not my child, but another little girl of a similar age, one with brown hair closer to my own than my daughter’s fiery red. Patterns were dotted across her arms like that of a sparrow’s wings, but her skin was also spotted with bruises and scratches, twigs and leaves and mud in her hair and stuck to her body. She didn't seem to be in pain, and I wondered if anyone had told her that those scratches are supposed to hurt. She hugged the tree, perhaps as a shield or perhaps as comfort. 

I crouched down, and kept my voice quiet. “Hello.”

She stepped back a little, keeping her eyes off of me. 

“Are you the one who plays with my daughter?”

More silence. I swallowed, my throat already dry. “She considers you a very good friend.”

“She’s my best friend.”

The girl’s voice was rough and unused, but that similar constriction in my chest came when I heard it, and I fully realized that this is just another kid I was talking to. I told her what people call me. The girl gave no response, but I could tell that she was relaxing. 

“Are you a fairy?”

The girl nodded. “I can turn into a bunch of different animals.”

“Oh? Like what?” 

“A cat, and....a dog, and, uh...I’m a sparrow a lot.”

“Do you like flying around?”

To my surprise, the girl shook her head. She told me she likes landing on my daughter’s finger. “I like singing with her,” she said. 

I asked her why she doesn’t transform into different animals to do so much more, and the girl looked at me with the most genuine and honest confusion I’ve seen. She didn’t understand the other options, because this was the only one that mattered to her. Her scope was so small, but she embraced it so wholly that I couldn’t be upset. “Are your injuries okay?” I asked instead. 

There was a slight bob of her head, one I almost didn’t see in the dark. “They’ll get healed up.” She pointed over her shoulder to a small ring of mushrooms behind her. I know a fairy circle when I see one, and I nodded in understanding. I left her to vanish in the fog of that forest. 

I returned home to my daughter and told her the bird is okay, and will come again tomorrow. She didn’t make a relieved expression or gesture, but gave a very quiet and polite “Thank you,” so I know that she was grateful. 

Some of the townsfolk think I’ve had my real child switched with an anomaly, a magic changeling. When I first met the bird, I thought that perhaps she was the changeling that was supposed to replace my child.

But whenever the bird appeared again, I made sure to leave some bread and milk for her, as well as leave our window open, in case she ever needed to rest at our home. My child came to me, wanting to sew a pillow for the bird to sleep on. The snacks I left out became more and more elaborate, from a small bit of porridge to pieces of a cake. Some days I would wake in the morning early enough to see that bird curled up in the roughly made pillow of my daughter’s.

I didn’t even think twice before I moved the pillow to my child’s room, setting it next to her head. I watched her and the bird snore peacefully, and I watched as the bird’s feathers slowly retracted and its silhouette expanded in the faint morning light. 

It wasn’t until I saw the two children, holding each other tightly under the warm blankets and roof of their shared house, did I realize that both I and the townsfolk were wrong. 

No child of mine had been replaced, nor were they meant to. I simply had two daughters.

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝑭𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑳 𝑾𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵 ║ Chapter 4 - I'm Standing on the Ashes of Who I Used To Be

| FERAL WOMAN | series masterlist | main masterlist | | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 5.3k | CHAPTER WARNINGS: none | CHAPTER SUMMARY: With your solo trip to the market taking a jarring deviation from what you’d planned, you find yourself alone with Joel in his house for a moment of reprieve. The one-on-one setting grants you the opportunity to get more insight into the man who is quickly becoming something of a fascinating and commanding companion.

║ＰＲＥＶＩＯＵＳ ║⋄── •✧• ──⋄�� ＮＥＸＴ ║

Please read with caution if you have difficulties with works concerning: SA, physical violence, torture, captivity, trauma, and similar topics as they are discussed throughout the series. All highly sensitive portions WILL BE MARKED with my sensitive material banner if you wish to skip the more challenging portions. The sensitive material banner looks like this:

Joel and Ellie’s house was much different from Susan’s. The usual tidy and bright space she kept was a far cry from the laid back atmosphere of the one you currently found yourself in. Jackets were draped on the stair banister. Boots were jumbled along the hallway baseboard. Comic books were strewn about the floor of the living room in your periphery. An empty glass sat dangerously close to the edge of the console table next to you. Susan’s mantra “a place for everything, and everything in its place” would be more of a “this is our place, so everything’s all over the place” here. It wasn’t dirty or cluttered. Just, very lived in. While it was obvious there wasn’t a lot of coming and going from Susan’s - yours and Susan’s, you mentally amended - Joel and Ellie’s home reflected the flurry of constant movement of its inhabitants.

“You can hang Tommy’s jacket on that hook over there or jus’ keep it on, whatever’s your preference. Same for boots. Kick ‘em off somewhere to your left if you want,” he signaled as he began shucking his jacket from his shoulders and hanging it on a hook.

“I didn’t take it,” you declare abruptly.

“Take it? Huh? Take what?” Joel looked up from shoving off his boots. His furrowed brow and downturned mouth signaled pure confusion at the sharp left in the conversation.

“Tommy, he gave me this. This jacket. And I can, well. As long as, until Maria can bring me- get me a new one. But I didn’t s-steal it,” you stressed.

“Yeah, I wasn’t really thinkin’ you managed to nick his favorite jacket from him,” Joel quipped with a snort. 

“Favorite?” you mumble.

You frowned and looked down to the jacket you had been wearing almost constantly since it had been lent to you. Your face twisted in displeasure at the stain along the buttons where you had spilled your drink  a few days ago. A dark tea Susan had urged you to drink. 

You weren’t usually in a situation where you had to worry about food or drink being too hot - or even warmed, for that matter - so you weren’t thinking when you raised the cup to your lips and burnt your tongue almost immediately. The tea had dribbled out from your mouth, followed by more drops sloshing from the mug. It all joined in a splotch of brown that had already ruined Tommy’s jacket. His favorite jacket.

“He’ll recover,” Joel ragged. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You brush aside the fledgling awareness that your hyperexcitability today was a showcase of your absolute lack of sensibility. Forming your own movements and thoughts felt unbearable, so you mimicked Joel’s actions and removed your jacket and boots. Joel stood with his hands firmly on his hips. The corner of his bottom lip was neatly tucked under his incisors as if in thought. Noticing you had made yourself comfortable, he cleared his throat and shifted his weight.

“I can, uh … Do you want me to sit outside? I don’t mind,” he offered.

“No. S’your house.” 

Him offering to sit outside in the cold sank into your mind like a fallen tree into a torrential river. A hard stop in your internal turmoil, shifting your refractory thoughts yet again. Although it was a considerate gesture, it only underlined the extensive accommodations you required to just fucking exist. 

You weren’t going to force him to sit outside in the cold. Not after all he had done for you today. 

“Alright. Just tryna gauge the situation. Want you to feel comfortable,” he admitted. “Know you’ve had a mornin’.”

“I’m fine,” you lie.

“Couch.” You motion vaguely to the living room where you could see the open seating. A shrug of your shoulders was intended to offset the rude demand and distort it as more of a question, but Joel didn’t seem to mind your choppy communication.

He nodded and planted himself comfortably onto the far left side of the couch. He turned his head to look over his shoulder at you when you hadn’t moved. Before you could entertain your hesitations too long, you hurled your leg out to set yourself in motion towards the couch. When you rounded the right side, you were presented with yet another dilemma: where to sit. 

If you sat all the way to the right, Joel might feel offended that you wanted so much space between you. If you sat in the middle, you’d be uncomfortable. And maybe he would be, too? As usual, you were left without an obvious place where you belonged.

“Just take the other end, darlin’,” Joel drawled. 

Your eyes snapped to him. You tried to identify any impression of offense that you clearly didn’t want to sit too close to him, but there was nothing to discover except his unfazed, neutral disposition.

You turned and plopped down into the opposite corner of the couch from Joel. You tugged the lifted edges of your sleeves down in an attempt to cover your wrists. It seemed pointless to do so when your fully visible face and neck had plenty enough evidence of imparted violence, but you couldn’t eschew the way it made you feel exposed. You wanted to hide away as many parts of yourself that you could.

Joel pivoted to face you more directly, clasping his hands together loosely between his knees as he rested his elbows on his thighs and leaned forward. “You’n Susan gettin’ on alright?”

It was an innocent enough question. Probably just an attempt to make small talk while the two of you waited for Ellie to return. But none of that stopped the onslaught of reminders about everyone’s opinions about you. Your supposed splintery, temperamental nature. Your delicate balance between calm and chaos.

A flush of irritation swept across your cheeks. You played back Tommy and Maria’s conversation from earlier today in your mind. The heat spread to your chest, mingling with your thundering heartbeat, when you remembered how Ellie had shown up at the door to speak with Susan after the unorthodox introduction you’d had with her and Joel.

“Did you send Ellie to the house the other day?” you challenge.

Joel didn’t answer right away and instead paused to absorb your brusque charge. It was all you needed to confirm he had indeed enlisted Ellie’s surveillance of you.

“I did,” he admitted.

“I’m not going to hurt Susan,” you snip. 

A constricting sensation wrapped your lungs. Everyone assumed you were ready at a moment’s notice to harm other people. A primal defense. A ticking time bomb. You weren’t that person. 

Why did everyone think you were that kind of person?

“Huh? Hurt Susan?” Joel parotted, a perplexed inflection in his voice.

“You sent Ellie. That’s why you had her, told her– That’s why you sent Ellie. Isn’t it? Because you–you think after the other day, in the snow, that I’m– Because I’m not in my right mind, and I will hurt Susan?” you protest.

You words came out a jumbled mess, but you didn’t care. You were sticking up for yourself. Or something like that. Tommy and Maria freely discussing how much of a catastrophe you were only instigated round after round of residual anger. Each recounting amassing with the others, snowballing into a pit of fury in your gut.

“WELL?” you demand.

You ignored the bile licking at your throat as you recklessly addressed Joel, a man who could slam your head in one swift strike against the stone fireplace a few feet away and kill you instantly, if he wanted to.

 “I sent Ellie, yeah, but it wasn’t Susan I was thinkin’ we needed to check up on,” he snorted in disbelief. He glanced at your hands folded in your lap and back up to you with a frown. “You’re shaking.”

“No I’m not,” you argue immediately. The tremor in your voice was clear even to your own ears.

“Alright,” he drew the word out in a mumble, not paying any mind to your awful lying.

When he stood up without warning, you flinched with such a frenetic motion that you knocked one of the back cushions out of place and over top your legs.

“Whoa, whoa now. Hold on,” Joel implored. He took a large step away from the couch and raised his palms out and up to his shoulders. You wanted to sink into a hole in the floor. He was interacting with you like he was trying to pacify a startled animal.

“Wasn’t thinkin’. Sorry ‘bout that,” he apologized earnestly. “I was gonna get you some water. You keep lickin’ and bitin’ at your lips. Gonna bleed if you keep it up.”

Trembles wracked your entire frame as you willed yourself to sit upright and return the cushion to its rightful place along the back of the couch. “S’f-fine.”

“Do I, I mean, should I announce myself? Coming back in?” he suggested.

You shrugged and cast your eyes to the ground. Apparently you were never short on finding new ways to make yourself appear more demented and disturbed.

Heavy footsteps sounded down and back up the hallway, followed by Joel’s clear call that he was behind you and coming up on your right side. As promised, he appeared on your right-hand side and passed a full glass of water to you. You whispered a thanks and emptied its entire contents in a few, rapid gulps. Joel repeated his trip to the kitchen and his words of notice as he brought you another glass of water, which you downed a touch less voraciously this time.

You finished the last sip and turned the glass in your hands. Your stomach gurgled at the rapid ingestion of liquid with no solids present to settle it.

“Hungry?” he prodded. 

You dipped your head “yes” even though it hadn’t been that long since you ate breakfast. Usually your appetite wouldn’t build so quickly, but it was yet another thing you were coming to accept as your new normal.

“C’mon,” he instructed, turning and walking back into the kitchen. You followed with slow, gradual steps. Your nerves were still on fire from all the events of the day, and Joel’s surprise departure from the couch had set ablaze an entirely new fit of anxiety.

“Dunno what you like,” he said from behind the fridge door. He straightened and sighed, seeming dissatisfied with the offerings. He closed the fridge and opened a few cabinets. He pulled down a container that had a variety of bagged nuts and some jerky.

A little noise escaped you when you saw the jerky, and you cringed when Joel noticed. 

“Somethin’ you see? Can have whatever you want.”

“I - I would – if it would be – some, some of the jerky,” you whisper, pointing feebly to the container.

Joel didn’t hesitate to grab the packet and hand it to you. Your eyes widened as you extended your arm and carefully extracted it from his grasp. Joel sent an amused smile your way, and the thin line of your mouth twitched up at the corners in response. You opened the packet and looked back up at Joel for permission. 

“Go on,” he insisted. “Knock yourself out.” Your smile fell flat at his harmless idiom.

“Oh. Somethin’ I said?” He frowned in consideration at your shift in mood.

“It’s .. not you. It’s me. It’s my problem, I mean. You didn’t. You didn’t do anything.” You worried your bottom lip between your teeth and stared at the jerky. It was ridiculous how nervous you felt to just reach out and take a piece.

You couldn’t shake the memory of the night at the cabin. The dirty, forgotten piece of jerky on the floor underneath the cabinets. Getting caught by Sam’s men. How you didn’t get the jerky or anything else to eat, but instead you just ended up–

“I appreciate you wantin’ to spare my feelings and all, but it clearly was somethin’ I did,” he contested. “If I knew what it was, I could avoid doin’ it again.”

Your eyes met his searching gaze. Your heart jumped into your throat when you saw the sincerity he held for you. Maybe he deserved to know. He had done more than enough for you today.

If telling him the truth was all you had to do, maybe you should just do that. Return the kindness. Like you were trying to do with Susan. Give something to these people showing you kindness and help. Offering way less in return for all they were doing for you. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a rough idea of your previous living situation. Your roughed up appearance and skittish demeanor did very little to obscure the extent of the challenges you’d faced.

“Well. I-I don’t know how to. How to say it, exactly,” you confess.

And you didn’t. You were still struggling with basic small talk. How were you supposed to explain your apprehension in a way that wouldn’t be awkward or too personal? And without getting completely tongue-tied?

“Then don’t think about it. Jus’ say the first thing that comes to your head,” he suggested. 

A deep pull of air. A reaping of your determination. A categorical allotment of your trust in Joel. 

You had to try.

“When you said ‘knock yourself out’, it reminded me of the-the last time I tried to sneak a piece of jerky, because .. because I was so hungry... Sam didn’t feed me. And thirsty. He was asleep. Drunk. I snuck. Wasn’t roped to the bed. I got out. Got out.”

Your voice became more uneven the further you got into recounting that night.

“And they- they had dropped on the floor– the jerky, a piece on the floor. But they were asleep. The men. I thought. Distracted because I was hungry and thirsty. And. It was- but they caught me. That’s how I ended up … that’s how I got my…,” you trailed, gesturing towards your cheek when your words failed you. 

You blinked a few times as you processed how amazing it felt to have just managed to get most of that out without tripping over every other word.

When you focused back on Joel, the unbridled rage in his face made you freeze. He looked dangerous. 

“M’sorry,” he gritted, shutting his eyes for a moment. “Not mad at you,” he assured you, picking up on your trepidation at his incensed state.

“Just … Makes my blood boil. That somebody did that to you.” 

Your eyes flitted down to Joel’s fist clenching and unclenching. Rather than feeling frightened, the tight spot in your chest loosened ever so slightly.

“Can’t imagine…how anyone could do that.. to you…” He shook his head in angry jerks. 

You were secretly pleased that you weren’t the only one who had trouble expressing difficult feelings and thoughts. Maybe Joel was someone who understood how hard it was for you to just get things out there in a way others could understand. 

His eyes snapped open. His expression was still furious, but didn’t hold the same lethal bite from before.

“Fuck ‘em,” he bit out in a humorless laugh. “Glad Tommy killed that piece of shit. Glad they all got their shit wrecked up on that mountain. Bunch of dumbasses couldn’t even keep a low profile. Bound to die sooner or later, so fuckin’ stupid. Deserved worse than they got, though. Wish they woulda suffered more.” 

You stared in wonder at Joel’s circling thoughts and felt little prickles of exhilaration blooming over your skin at the way he had responded to the circumstances you had endured. It sent a thrill up your spine so forceful you shivered slightly.

“I… Me, too,” you agreed.

“You’re gonna eat as much fuckin’ jerky as you want, you understand? And you’re takin’ that with you when Ellie gets back with your food. Keep it in your room, eat it whenever the hell you want to,” he demanded, pointing a stern finger at the packet in your hand.

“Okay,” you breathe. A wide grin rearranged your entire face into an expression of fiendish delight. You felt a surge of adrenaline over Joel’s impassioned appeal to your wellbeing and the sheer potency of his defense on your behalf.

He huffed a small laugh through his nose at your impish expression and seemed to shift away from the anger directed at the monsters in your history. 

You sat in the kitchen together as you nibbled at your jerky. Joel helped himself to a piece, and you sat in a comfortable silence until Ellie returned with the groceries for you and Susan.

“Here ya go,” she puffed with a smile as she dropped the bags onto the table. “Ooooh, jerky!” She nabbed a piece beside your hand, and you felt a rush of pride when you didn’t even flinch. Your lips knit together as you tried to contain your self-conscious but elated smile.  Joel grinned at you, noticing your reaction and making the connection to its catalyst.

Your efforts to contain your glee dissolved, and you directed your proud smile towards the table. Maintaining eye contact was too much with these kinds of strong reactions you were fielding. Sometimes you just had to look away to help level yourself.

Even the good moments like this inundated you with thoughts and feelings that needed to be processed - just like the blanket Susan was making you. It would have to wait until tonight for you to mull it over.

As if he had a front row seat to your inner workings, Joel announced he would help to carry the food over to your house. He snatched the bag of jerky from Ellie, who promptly let out a, “Hey what the fuck, man?!” You snickered quietly at her accusation that held no real hostility.

“Well well well, glad to see somebody’s feeling better,” she chirped and jutted her chin at you. You shrugged once into your shoulder but didn’t shy away from her assessment.

“Shut up, Ellie,” Joel grumbled.

“Hey, come back over some time! It’s so fucking boring with just Joel around,” she heckled, twisting her way to Joel’s side when he tried blocking her off from you.

“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbled theatrically, but you caught the way he held back a smirk.

“Oh. Oka- Yes. Def-Yes,” you titter. The blush on your cheeks wasn’t from anger this time, instead a giddy relief that you somehow hadn’t managed to drive these people away from you. Even your fluctuations between every point on the spectrum of human emotion at a moment’s notice hadn’t been too much for them. They seemed to just take it in stride. They seemed to handle it better than you did, if you were being honest with yourself.

When Joel walked you back, refusing to let you carry a single thing, you worked up the nerve to discuss something with him that had been weighing on you.

“Hey. Did you … the other day. With the snow. And everything,” you rambled. “Did you say .. to Tommy and Maria? Say anything to them?”

“No,” he replied. You paused in surprise at his answer. You had been so certain he must have gone to tell them all about your erratic behavior.

“No?” you repeat. 

“None of their business,” he asserted. “And none of today is their business, either.”

You took a moment to digest the meaning of his words. He hadn’t told anyone about your first meeting and how bizarre it was. He wasn’t going to say anything to anyone about today. Your attention shifted to your front door only a stride away and then back to Joel.

Seeming to understand your unasked question, he added, “And Susan doesn’t need to know all your business, either.”

Your hunched shoulders relaxed, and you closed your eyes as you culled a full breath into your lungs. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. You just keep on. You’ll be okay,” he asserted in that same confident tone that had a rapid sedating effect on your nerves.

You patted his arm in gratitude with three quick taps before snapping your hand back to your side. The corner of his mouth twitched up at your friendly gesture. 

“Here, take these now.” He handed the bags of food to you before rapping his knuckles against the door. You bounced on the balls of your feet just a little when you managed to not jerk away from the noise. Joel gave you the same grin from the kitchen table when you had your last moment of pride. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to keep your smile from growing bigger.

“And, what Ellie said earlier, about comin’ over sometime, we’d enjoy the company,” he said. You didn’t have a chance to answer him other than a soft gasp of disbelief and delight before the door swung open.

Susan stood in the doorway and remarked on Joel’s surprise appearance, expecting to see Maria with you. Shit. The next time Maria came over, Susan was bound to talk to her about your outing and find out you had foolishly gone alone.

“Me’n Ellie caught her just as we were headin’ out. Goin’ to get our shoppin’ done, too. She did real good, Susan. Whatever you’re doin’ is helpin’, I think,” he said as he jerked his head in your direction. 

You nodded with enthusiasm at Joel’s cover for you. Bless this man and his skillful lying! you sang to yourself. “Oh, Bug! That’s wonderful!” she lilted. Her excitement was palpable.

“You know, Joel, usually Maria stops by about once a week to fetch me some things, but it might just work out that Bug could start doing the shopping when you and Ellie go out. Now with two people in the house, we’ll need to keep more food around. I’m sure however often you and Ellie go would be about the same we’d need to do our shopping, too.”

An eyebrow shot up to your hairline at Susan’s estimation. Joel, the bulky, broad man next to you? That could probably eat a Thanksgiving tier meal three times a day, every day? You doubted you and Susan’s intake combined would put a dent in Joel’s diet. If he and Ellie didn’t make multiple trips a week to the store or the canteen, you were certain they were lugging back more than just two measly fabric bags of food. 

“Sure thing, Susan,” Joel replied. You looked up at him in surprise. “That is, if you’re alright with it?”

“I, of course. Of course. That sounds good,” you agree. Maybe going with him and Ellie would be better than Maria. After all, today’s outburst at least gave them an idea of what to expect if things went south again.

“Alright, great. I’ll let y’all two get inside where it’s warm.” Joel stepped aside for you to enter and gave a quick wave before heading off.

You tucked the carrots into the fridge while Susan unpacked the second bag.

“See, Bug? I promised you that they were great to have around for some help. Isn’t Joel such a nice man?” she asked. “Yes. Yes, he is,” you answer.

It was the only thing you had said today with swift, unconditional certainty.

The next week rolled around, and you made your way to Ellie and Joel’s for your market trip. Joel answered the door and started to lock it and head out. “Ellie’s at some school somethin’ or other today. Bitched about it all mornin’. Just you and me today if that’s alright,” he explained.

“Oh. Sure. That’s-That’s fine,” you reply.

“Alright, if you’re sure.” He paused for a moment before adding, “And I’dda had you come in while I finished up the dishes, but I wasn’t sure you’d be okay with that or not.”

“I-I think that would’ve been okay,” you lie. Joel’s lip twitched, but he was kind enough to not vocalize the fact that you both knew you weren’t telling the truth.

“I’m-I mean it. I do. Being around you. It’s fine. I like it. Being around you,” you blurt out unceremoniously. Embarrassment started to creep up your spine at your tactless social etiquette, but you pushed it down. You refused to feel shame for your lack of decorum aftering spending so many years alone or worse yet in the company of those you’d hesitate to even call human beings.

Joel didn’t say anything at first, although his quirked brow and upward tug at the corner of his mouth gave the impression that he was at least amused by you.

“I’m glad t’say it’s the same for me,” he chuckled. His lack of reaction at your awkward outburst made you feel like you should explain yourself.

“Thanks.” The conversation lulled, and you tried to steal a few furtive glances at Joel. Not satisfied with the glimpses you were managing, you settled into a loop of peeks that you knew were much too close to gawking for it to go unnoticed.

 Joel didn’t shift or seem uncomfortable under your watch. It was as if he didn’t have a care in the world. 

You’d give anything to feel like that.

“My people- My social skills aren’t too great. Sorry,” you excuse yourself in a hurry.

Joel simply shrugged, clearly not going to engage in your negative self-talk.

“Guess that’s what being kidnapped and kept prisoner for two years does to you,” you laugh hollowly.

Joel did stiffen at the casually lobbed statement you offered up as if it weren’t absolutely gut-wrenching and devastating. You blatantly stared up at him, wanting to see his reaction.

“Honey, you’re better company than just about anybody I’ve met in Jackson, so I’d encourage you to not get stuck on shit like that,” he contended firmly with an unwavering gaze set on you to match.

“S-Sure you don’t just-just put up with me? Because you, ‘cause you feel sorry for me?” The words came spilling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“I wouldn’t put up with somebody if I didn’t want to,” he corrected. 

You felt a warmth in your chest at his admission. You wished you could also claim you wouldn’t be around somebody if you didn’t like them, but you had just spent month after month after month of your life doing just the opposite.

“I’m just, you know, just trying to learn. Learn how to be… around people?” Again, the words spilled over without thought. Joel’s low reactivity somehow made him into a sort of sounding board.

“You and me both,” Joel chuckled.

You tilted your head in question. He seemed to interact with people just fine. He didn’t seem anxious at all whenever he spoke to anyone. Sure, he didn’t say much usually, but you never got the impression that he felt nervous. 

You’d give anything to feel like that.

“But you talk to everyone just fine,” you counter.

Joel laughed some more and shook his head in disagreement. “No. I simply do what I have to in order to get by. Simple as that.”

Your body flexed in response to his offhand remark. If that’s what Joel was doing, did that mean you were going to have to do the same? More fakery?  More saying whatever people want to hear so that your life is easier? More forgoing your own wishes just so you aren’t in danger? Being a different person entirely just because it kept you safer than being yourself and listening to your own desires and wishes?

You curled and uncurled your hands at your sides in frustration. “Somethin’ I said?” Joel leaned over to get a better view of you.

You averted your face so you didn’t have to look at him. “S’nothing.”

He walked silently for a moment before it seemed he had an idea of what you had reacted to.

“Nothin’ wrong with doin’ what you have to, to survive,” he said sternly. 

You glanced back up at him. The mist over your eyes clouded your vision slightly, but you didn’t risk blinking it back and sending it spilling over.

“But you don’t have to do that sorta thing here, you understand me? Talk to who you wanna talk to. Say what you wanna say. You don’t owe anybody shit.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the gathering wet in your eyes to recede.

“Hey.” Joel’s voice was so soft you would’ve missed it if you weren’t on such high alert already. You sniffed back your frustration and turned to look up at him when he stopped. You really didn’t need to cry in front of this man. Again.

“I’m gonna say somethin’, and you need to listen to me,” he said slowly. His hand sort of hovered near your shoulder as if he had intended to place it there but thought better of it at the last minute. “You can keep me company any time you see fit. You might feel self-conscious at the way you talk with people, but I like it.” 

You blinked and stared back at him, unsure if he was telling the truth or just trying to make you feel better. 

“I mean it. Half the time people talk around what they’re really tryin’ to say, and it drives me nuts. You? You just say it. You try to, even though I know it’s hard for you. You say what you’re thinkin’. You got the guts to say what’s on your mind. I like it. Takes the guess work outta things. Makes it easier to talk when it’s somebody like that.”

The tears you had tried so hard to keep in check were now teetering on your lashes. “I hope you like how I talk freely with ya, too.” His tone took a questioning turn, and you could only laugh at his unwarranted uncertainty.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” you warble. “Trying to trust people. You’re doing a- doing a pretty good job of m-making that easier for me, Joel.”

You dug your nails into the palms of your hands to keep from crying even though you were sure Joel could see the wet lumps brimming along your eyes.

“And thanks for saying that you, um, that you like b-being around me.” It came out more pitiful than you had intended, but it was out there now.

“Not a hard sell when somebody’s easy to be around,” he shrugged.

The movement of your face rearranging into a smile pushed the teetering pools onto the curves of your face in little rivulets. Joel’s thumb twitched as though he was considering brushing them off for you, but you shook your head in warning and scrubbed the heels of your palm over your face to dry them up before he could.

A small frown curved into the line of Joel’s mouth as he lowered his hands to his sides in an almost apologetic motion.

“Too much still,” you reminded him. “Nothing to-to do with you.”

He nodded in understanding and motioned for the two of you to continue walking.

You waited a few beats to collect yourself before trying to start up a conversation again. 

“You know that, uh, you’re-you’re in big trouble, right?”

Joel’s head snapped to attention, and you worried you had overplayed your joke.

“Yeah, I hafta use some of the slips for s’more jerky,” you tease. “Your fault.”

Joel cracked a wide grin when he realized you were trying to give him a hard time.

“Already polished off the bag I gave you, huh?” he taunted with equal levity.

“Actually, yeah. I-I did. Is that bad?” you ask in earnest.

Joel sniffed a laugh and replied, “Nope. Already told’ya you’re under strict orders to eat as much of it as often as you want.”

You were glad it wasn’t actually a bad thing that you were having to use some of Susan’s slips just to support your jerky habit. 

“A-Affirmative, lieutenant,” you giggle. You hoped your play on Joel’s wording of “strict orders” landed.

“Christ you’re a mess,” Joel laughed, and you gladly joined him with a timid one of your own.

Turns out Joel's struggles with communicating feelings improve greatly when presented with somebody who's even worse at it than he is lmao.

Also, I know it's not really funny considering the context, but Joel angrily commanding somebody to eat jerky is hilarious to me.

What are y'all's thoughts on the story so far? Would love to hear from you. :)

And thank you to everyone who has been interacting and even reblogging my silly little fics. It's so kind of you, and I appreciate it!

Catch ya later, 

♥Puddles♥