#guess I’ll just lie here for a another few hours until the sun goes up or I pass out

[skyward-floored]

I thought briefly about going up on the beach just because it would probably be interesting at 3 am but then I remembered most sane people don’t go walking around by themselves in the middle of the night

[missmonsters2]

Close to You

Edit: gif by giuliacommissions

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader/OFC

Prompt: I’ll keep you warm. Hold me closer.

Note: As we all know, Wanda Maximoff is the love of my life. A break for softness bc Between the Lines will be angsty and sad for a while 👀

Warnings: this is fucking soft™

Genre: Fluff

Count: 3453

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The world is beautiful. 

The sunlight's warmth caresses your cheek, a light wind running its breeze through your hair. The only sound you can hear is the soft music playing and a light snore. The smell of pine wafts through the air as you drive at a steady pace. There's no rush; you are exactly where you want to be. 

You hear a slight mumble to your right, and you turn over to see Wanda shifting slightly in her seat but doesn't wake. Her eyes are closed as she curls as much as she can in the passenger seat. 

Your lip curves upward gently as you turn your attention back to the road.

You think of the girl beside you. 

The world is beautiful.

And it was worth saving. 

You constantly have to remind yourself of that fact. Otherwise, you don't think you could get up anymore. 

Defeating Thanos had taken everything. 

Natasha was gone. Tony was gone. Vision was gone. Steve was not gone, but his hip would probably break if he moved the wrong way, so fighting was out of the question for the old man. 

So many people were still gone, and the world never felt so lonely. 

You lean your head against your fist towards the window, feeling more of the wind against your face and hair. Taking a deep breath in, you let it out slowly through your nose. 

Another noise beside you draws your attention back, and you find Wanda waking slowly. She's a little disgruntled, and the side of her hair has lifted and looped from her sleep. 

You bite your tongue, holding in the words that want to come out. 

Wanda is absolutely charming.

Still, Wanda turns her head to you a little too quickly, unintentionally catching your thoughts. Her cheeks dust a light rose color as she runs her fingers through her hair to straighten herself out. 

"Hey," she rasps, still groggy. Grabbing the water bottle between the two of you, she takes a long gulp, finishing with a light sigh.

"Hey, sleepyhead," you smile. Wanda looks apologetic, but you just chuckle it off. 

Wanda looks out the window, breath hitching just ever so slightly at the view. She likes that it feels like the world could go on and on forever in the car with you. The trees look lusher, the air seems crisper, and even the sky seems a little happier--if that makes sense. 

"Where are we heading today?" Wanda asks patiently.

Every few days to a week is always new, and Wanda has been on the road with you for a while. She's learned that sometimes you have a place in mind and the other times? You're just driving until you decide you like where you are.

"To Lake Cushman," you tap the steering wheel with your index finger in a slow, steady rhythm. Wanda hums as she rolls down her window too to feel the breeze on her skin. 

The rest of the drive is serene. The two of you enjoy the ride, listening to the same song over and over again.

When you get to the lake, you park the car, and Wanda goes to the trunk to help you carry things out. Wanda spends her time at the edge of the lake blowing up the inflatable boat you packed along manually. 

You smile.

It wasn't always like this. In fact, Wanda wasn't even someone you were really close with. Of course, you were a team, and you wouldn't hesitate to have her back in a battle. But Wanda used to have her own world with Vision, and that world existed far from you. 

It wasn't until the funeral that the two of you really noticed each other. 

The funeral left you with a hollow feeling. You stood with Clint and Wanda for a minute more before you turned to leave, muttering about contacting you if something happened. 

You were a traveler, always have been. Being an Avenger never changed that. 

You hugged Morgan and Pepper before you went to your car to pack things up.

"Can I come with you?"

The sudden words made you turn around. 

Wanda stood there, the rim of her eyes red from crying and also trying to hold in the tears. Her legs stood together straight, but she held her hands together in front of her tightly, revealing she was worried about you rejecting her. 

You stared at her for a long moment.

"Of course."

The first few weeks to two months of traveling was strange. You're not sure what possessed Wanda to ask you if she could tag along. You're not sure what possessed you to say yes.  

Wanda didn't talk much, still grieving just like you. That left the road trips with tons of silence. You weren't really sure of what to think about the company or her specifically. The only time Wanda had ever seemed happy was with Vision, and now he was gone. 

But still, you think you could pinpoint a certain day that things seemed to change. 

"No powers."

Wanda frowned. "Why not?"

"It's my rules when traveling. If you want to tag along, no powers unless we really need it." You stood firm with your stance. 

The two of you were on a hike, particularly a long one with a lot of inclines. Wanda wanted to float her way up--generously offering to take you as well, but you said no.

"You think showing our powers would be dangerous?" Wanda scrunches her brows together with a slight frown on her lips. 

"No," you blinked. 

"Then, why?" Wanda asks exasperatedly. 

You sigh, looking at the girl before you. "Wanda, there are times when efficiency is good. Like when our lives are at stake, or we're in a battle or a mission. Powers are wonderful when we need to save others."

You turn your head to look around the scenery. "But look around here," you tell her, your peripheral vision catching Wanda doing as she's told. "Right now, it's just you and me on a hike. The world isn't falling apart, no fight that needs to be fought, and we have absolutely no rush to be anywhere."

You turn your head back to Wanda's, catching the other girl's vibrant but confused eyes. "For people like us, we generally don't have the luxury to waste time. But if we get the chance the smell the flowers along the way, shouldn't we?"

Wanda stares at you. Blinking once, then twice. 

And then a tentative, shy smile blooms. 

"I used to hate the sky."

The comment is said so quietly you almost miss it, but it breaks you out of thought. 

You move your head further to the side, catching Wanda, who is still staring at the sky. The two of you lie on your backs on opposite edges of the inflatable boat. 

"Yeah?" You say as you move your head back to look at the sky along with Wanda. A warm leg moves and presses against yours, and you think about how wonderful it is to be able to share the same sky with Wanda. "Why?"

Wanda is silent, seemingly shocked because no one has ever asked why. So, she presses her lips together, trying to formulate her answer.

"I guess...I hated that the sky always seemed to pass by," Wanda sighs as she closes her eyes. "It was like time was passing by, and I didn't get the chance to notice it. I'd wake up when it was still dark, and by the time I was done the day, it was dark again."

At this point, Wanda can't tell if the warmth against her leg is hers or yours. All she knows is that she wants more of it. 

"I guess you don't hate it anymore?" You chuckle a little, knowing you and Wanda spend most days relaxing in the sun. 

Wanda opens her eyes, staring at the clear blue sky. The thought of how she's always learning something from you crosses her mind.

For example, if they have the luxury to enjoy the flowers along the journey, they should. 

Or oranges can be very flammable. 

But Wanda has come to realize things on her own too.

Like how life is made up of moments, and if she decides to be just a little brave, she can get the moments she wants. 

"The sky is beautiful during the day," Wanda concedes, but she bites her lip as you hum. Taking a deep breath before swallowing. Her moment of bravery comes in the form of sliding her hand across the small boat, her fingers just meeting the start of yours. "But I no longer mind when it's dark when I wake up and dark when my day ends if I am with you."

You turn your hand over, palm facing up as you curl your fingers to just hook Wanda's fingers.

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You're the first to wake up from your slumber. You don't even remember falling asleep. After having enough of lounging in the boat, you took Wanda on another hike. At the very top, you packed food along with a blanket. You and Wanda sat under the shade, watching the horizon just beyond the valley with soft talks about hopes and dreams. 

There's a sadness in Wanda that you don't think will ever go away, but you watch her with slow eyes as she talks about how it would be wonderful to exist in a tiny evergreen lush island. 

Wanda has a lovely complexion with rosy cheeks as she looks at her hands, talking about an island that may only exist in her dreams. Her long lashes draw you in, and you wonder if it's terrible of you to notice such things. 

You check your watch, noticing you only slept for half an hour, and look over to Wanda, who is curled against you. She sleeps peacefully as there's still plenty of daylight out. You look up, the sun passing through the leaves and branches above you.

Wanda sniffles slightly in her sleep. You turn over to find the girl shiver just once, shuffling closer to you to seek warmth.  

As you take your jacket off to drape it over her, you wonder how and when you got pulled under Wanda's spell.

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The day comes to a quiet end after dinner and sitting by the campfire. The wonderful thing about your car is that you can push the back seat down and make a little bed to rest in. 

The back is filled with pillows and blankets, and as you have your pillow propped up with your back against it, you can look out the back window of your car and into the skyline outside. 

Perhaps it's because the two of you have slept most of the day, but sleep doesn't come as easily at night. You've got your Bluetooth speaker playing music in the background to relax you. 

"I can't sleep," Wanda mumbles and sits up. You chuckle as Wanda props her pillow up, too, with a sigh. 

She rests her head back, looking through the sunroof, and gazes at the stars. 

"Do you want me to turn off the music?" You ask, but Wanda shakes her head, hair falling from her ear as she does.

"No, I probably napped too much today." 

"Our sleep schedule is going to get fucked if we keep napping during the day," you snicker. "I guess we should find more things to do during the day than a hike. I was thinking maybe we could start going into town to do things."

"Like what?" Wanda asks.

You shrug. "Go to museums, actually eat at a restaurant, watch movies in a theatre. I don't know. Anything we want to, I guess."

Wanda gnaws on her lips because all those things sound like a date, and her fingers thrum against the floor in anticipation. She looks at you, blinking while you stare back, unsure.

"I'm cold," Wanda states, leaving you in confusion.

"Oh, uh..." You stutter, feeling your body tense. "Do you want more blankets? A sweater?"

Wanda stares at you with a tilt of her head. "No."

You press your lips together, opening the blanket just a little from where you are, and offer your arms to the other girl. Wanda may be using all the courage she has, and you realize now is not the time to be dense. 

And it's worth it when Wanda can't help but smile as she scoots closer into your arms as you hold her, pulling the blanket up to her shoulder. 

There's a certain tingle on your skin. A pit in your stomach, a warmth that spreads through your chest when Wanda's body presses against yours. The way she lies against across your chest while you cradle her in your arms. The smell of cinnamon and orange blossoms permeate the air you breathe, and even though you're in the middle of nowhere, you feel like you're home. 

Wanda sighs in contentment. She likes the way you don't say anything else, and the only words that float through your mind are lyrics from the song playing in the background.

The hours pass like it's nothing, and soon, the sun rises steadily. The sky becomes a palette of colors you've seen a million times. You've seen every color of the sky. But seeing everything again with Wanda is different.

You hold Wanda tighter in your arms, becoming more daring as your fingers trail across her arm covered by her shirt. The scent of her hair flirts with you as your fingers trail up her arm until you trace her bare collarbone. The way Wanda breathes is noticeable, filling her chest as it rises and holds. 

Your hand drops and Wanda tilts her head to look up at you.

The sky is no longer just pink and orange. It's cotton candy that trickles far and wide. It's the color that reflects off of Wanda's skin, hitting her eyes, and for a moment, you think you saw a glimpse into the future. 

"Why me?"

The question holds nothing but soft wondering. Within the words, Wanda suspects you mean why did she ask to come with you that day?

Why now?

Wanda licks her bottom lip.

"Why did you say yes?" She counters back. 

You don't say anything. You try to think of an answer, but nothing comes to your head. The truth is you don't know why. You just looked at her that day, and you couldn't have pictured yourself saying no. 

Wanda shifts, looking back at the sunrise. 

"Did Stephen ever tell you there's millions and millions of realities out there?"

You sigh with a grimace, "Yes, so many times."

Wanda chuckles raspily, and you feel the vibrations against your chest. 

"It's strange, isn't it? To think so many versions of you exist out there, that every reality would be different from the one we exist in today," Wanda lifts her hand from out the blanket, holding up and letting the sunlight filter through her fingers.

You don't say anything and only listen to Wanda because this may be the most she's spoken since coming on this trip.

"I loved Vision," Wanda says finally. "I don't think I will ever find a love I had with him again."

You blink, unsure what to make of that statement. You understand it, you really do. You'll always be understanding of her grief, and yet, your tight arms around her begin to feel awkward. 

Wanda chuckles again, dropping her hand back down on your arm to keep it in place. "And that's okay."

"I have lost so much," Wanda's breath shutters for a moment. "We both have."

You swallow slowly, trying to not like the pang of pain distract you. 

"But as much as I have lost, I've always gained something. I've lost my parents, and that led to gaining powers. I've lost my home country, but I gained a family with the Avengers. I've lost Pietro, and I gained Vision. I've lost Vis," Wanda swallows, "And I gained you."

"So, when you ask why you," Wanda licks her lips, "It's because I'm no stranger to loss. Even though grief has come to my door again, I know something good when I see it. And I saw you. I saw this moment."

"This moment?" You scrunch your brows together. It's such an odd moment to see, and yet so much of Wanda's behavior over the last six months made more sense. 

Wanda sits up, turning to face you as the blanket draped over her slides down her back. Hands pressed against the ground on either side of your legs, she leans in close. You catch specks of the sky in her eyes, but this one isn't just the cotton candy that's just outside. 

You catch specks of all the beautiful lush green trees you've seen. The sea and the sand the waves push up against. You see the white sun and shy hands that inch closer until they meet. 

A hand touches your jaw, shyly sliding further until Wanda holds your cheek. 

"Are you cold?" She murmurs, feeling the lack of warmth from sitting upright the entire night. 

"Yeah," You mumble as Wanda leans closer and closer until you can feel her breath on your lips. 

"I'll keep you warm," Wanda whispers, and you feel the brush of her lips. "Hold me closer."

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"You know, I wish there was a way– that I could let her know. That we won." Clint looks over at Wanda. "We did it."

"She knows--they both do." The rim of Wanda's eyes is red as she looks out onto the lake. Clint gives her a side hug that she returns for a long minute.

"You know where to reach me if you need me," you mutter, turning to leave the two alone.

Wanda looks at your retreating form. You didn't shed a single tear at the funeral, but she did not blame you. She had recognized that kind of grief on herself once upon a time, and she knows it's the kind that hurts more than any crying could. 

Clint eventually bids his farewell and takes off, leaving her alone to gaze out onto the lake. 

More tears well up, and Wanda isn't sure if she should let them fall or will them to magically go back into her eyes. It seems she decided too slow, and the tears well over down her cheeks as someone comes to stand next to her. 

He takes a deep breath, holding his hands behind his back.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he politely passes his condolences. 

"Me too," Wanda says without breaking her view. 

It's silent for another minute.

"You know," Stephen squints as if that will let him see further. "I went through 14 million realities to see which one where we would win and only came out with one."

"If this is supposed to make me better, it's not--"

"Hear me out," Stephen cuts Wanda off. "In every reality that we manage to bring everyone back, including the one where we win, there was only one thing consistent."

Wanda laughs humorlessly. "And what's that?"

"You are grieving, yes, but," Stephen turns to face Wanda, causing her to turn to him as well. "You gain something so, so very beautiful."

Wanda's brows furrows, confused at what Stephen is trying to hint at. It isn't until he turns his attention to something that she turns too, stunned. 

It's you, slowly packing your car. 

"Strange, isn't it?" Stephen muses like he's talking to himself. "14 million realities, and every single one you return in, you gain her."

Wanda stares at you, unsure what to make of what Stephen is telling her.

"Why her?" She mumbles.

Stephen grins.

"I think you're a smart girl, Wanda," he tells her without answering her question. "I think if you let yourself, you'll see something good. You'll see her, even if you are grieving."

Stephen places his hand on her shoulder, giving her an encouraging squeeze before he walks away.

Wanda stands there, still looking at you while she tilts her head just to the side slightly. 

And she's not sure what happens, but she sees something in her head.

A cotton candy sky, the light barely visible. She sees pillows and blankets in the back of a car. She hears the same song playing over and over in the background. 

Wanda sees you.

She sees you in a light she's never had before, in a way she didn't think was ever possible. 

"I'm cold," you whine, and Wanda sees herself smiling as she leans closer. 

"I'll keep you warm," she sees herself bold and wanting. "Hold me closer."

[jimlingss]

Maybe Baby Retreat

➜ Words: 12.7k

➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 50% Smut

➜ Summary: In an attempt to conceive, Taehyung discovers a five day retreat dedicated to help with the impregnation process but you're fairly certain that the entire thing is a scam.

[Day One]   Taehyung should be fucking you.   It’s a bit crass to be grumbling that he’s not sticking his sperm in you, but your fertile window begins today and if he really wants a kid as much as he says he does, you wouldn’t be on a godforsaken bus.    The yellow school bus jumps and jolts as it goes down the jagged, unpaved road. Every bump is felt in the back by ten folds as you’re rocked from side to side on the seat and not on your husband’s dick. Said man is too busy singing along with the guide that’s living it up with a mic in hand and his voice on the intercom. He’s trying to bring up the morale, but you’re not having it.   Instead, you turn to the window and stare out at the empty countryside that stretches across the horizon. There’s not a car in sight and if you swear to god if you’re being shipped to a serial killer’s farmhouse, you’re dragging Taehyung down to hell with you.   “You’re frowning, sweetheart,” he says while leaning over to you, flashing a blazing grin much to your chagrin. “You know stress isn’t good for the baby.”   “It’s not like it matters. There is no baby.”   “Not yet.” Taehyung throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him as you scoff. You’re aware being a Debbie Downer isn’t going to help anyone but it’s hard to loosen up when you’re so on guard and skeptical about this whole thing. When you’re surrounded by noisy strangers who are all too overfamiliar.   You suppose it was your fault to begin with.   All those nights of staying up to read about tricks and tips of conceiving led Taehyung to discover the Baby Retreat. A five day sanctuary that ensures people will be able to conceive.    The moment you saw it, you were certain that the whole thing was a scam, but your sweet summer child husband was wholly convinced and no matter what you said, it wouldn’t change his mind.   “Who knows, it might actually work, right?! And if it doesn’t, then it looks fun anyway! When was the last time we had a vacation together?”   It’s also your fault for being so soft. You couldn’t shut Taehyung down when he was so enthusiastic, so here you are. You took off a week off work and on your fertile day, you’re shipped onto a school bus out into the middle of nowhere.   “Oh! Looks like we’re here, folks!” The vehicle slows as it turns into the gravel parking lot and the guide smiles as he peers out the windshield. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope you leave with a few buns in the oven! And if not, then don’t worry, you can still eat for two here!”   There’s a few snickers and once the bus parks, everyone gets up, slowly shuffling out and stretching their legs.   The air is sweltering hot and the sun beams down onto the back of your neck, making it uncomfortable to breathe. You’re panting with sweat built on your hairline as you drag your luggage through the grass. But no one seems bothered by it. Maybe because they’re excited that they’re here, they have the energy to fill the field with their chatter.    Even Taehyung is grinning and he’s a certified whiner when it comes to hot weather. The guy blasts the air conditioner during summer until it feels like it’s winter. Though you have an inkling it’s just a tactic so you can cuddle up to him for warmth before bed.   “Come on, slowpoke!” Taehyung breaks through your train of thought and then abandons you by running ahead like a hyperactive five year old.    “I’d be faster if you helped me!” Taehyung doesn’t hear you. You wonder if you married a child — but you suppose that’s why you called him the light of your life during your vows. Like Yoongi once said at the dinner reception, Taehyung’s excessive energy is indeed a double-edged sword.   You follow the stream of people to the center building, a modern wooden structure in the middle of the fifteen yurts that form a circle. It surprisingly looks alike to the advertisements, each with a porch and steps up to the door. The grass is verdant and pliant beneath your feet, the numerous trimmed trees around providing some nice shade and the flower beds give bright splashes of colour to the place. If this retreat wasn’t oddly centered around impregnation, you would’ve been convinced that it was a fancy camping resort.   “Welcome everyone! Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope the trip here wasn’t too bad!”   You finally join Taehyung’s side and look towards the stage in front of the main building. There’s a man with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks in a loose tunic and taupe pants. He stands next to a woman in a baggy poncho holding a ukulele for reasons beyond you.   “I see some familiar faces here! To all those already familiar with the Baby Retreat, welcome home. I’ll try to keep this short and simple, so you’re not too bored.” He claps his hands together with a bright smile. You look around at the crowd to see elated expressions. “My name is Park Jimin and this is my girlfriend, Song Hyunjin. A little about us, we’ve been together for over ten years and yes, we have an open relationship with each other, but that does not mean we aren’t in love with each other.”   He draws her in, nuzzling into her without shame and she giggles. “To our new faces, trust me, you’ll find out soon enough.”   Jimin pulls away with an enormous grin. “We haven’t had any children ourselves, but don’t worry. We’re reproductive endocrinologists with proper training and medical degrees. But we started this retreat four years ago to take a more unconventional approach to reproduction. And for the next five days, we have the honour of hopefully helping you ladies conceive and you males impregnate your partner!”   There’s some exchanged smiles and Taehyung looks at you with hopeful eyes. It feels better to hear these people aren’t uneducated and talking out of their ass, but you’re still unsure how to feel.   Hyunjin laughs. “Not only that, our goal is to help you relax and truly deepen your relationship with your partner. While we can’t promise a hundred percent success rate, hopefully you’ll leave this place feeling more refreshed than you did before. With that being said, please feel free to come up and ask us any questions. We’re very open people who are more than happy to help you in your process of expanding your wonderful families. There is nothing more beautiful than pregnancy and birth.”   She jumps off the stage and grabs a wooden crate. With a smile, she begins passing out packs.   Jimin continues, “For the next five days, we’ll be helping everyone improve their diets and exercise habits while getting plenty of vitamin D. What my lovely Hyunjin is handing out now are your survival kits!”    “For men, fenugreek supplements are given to improve your sperm counts and for the ladies, there are prenatal vitamins and folic acid. There’s also a guide to the activities provided around here and a map, some sunscreen and other knick-knacks to remember your time here. Don’t worry, we won’t bombard you with any pregnancy pamphlets or information. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing about that.”   It’s a bit refreshing to hear. You’ve been neck deep in research about conception that it’s been hard lately — another reason that you agreed to Taehyung’s whims.   “Are you the Kim family?” Hyunjin asks and when you confirm it, she hands both you and Taehyung cute pouches. You reluctantly take it, but when you thank her, she happily smiles. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat.”   The introduction drags on for a bit more before Hyunjin admits that it’s hot and that everyone’s probably tired, so the meeting ends and you open your pouch and find information on your yurt.   “Not too bad, right?”    Taehyung can tell by the look on your face as you gaze up at your white-tented yurt.   “We’ll see,” you mumble and he takes the luggage, following behind you. “I thought we were going to spend five days in an orange tent, so I guess this is better by default.”   “An orange tent?” He laughs. “But I showed you the commercial! Did you not pay attention?”   “People lie on advertisements all the time, Tae.”   But to your surprise, the interior of the yurt is even better than expected. It looks like a cozy cabin, wooden panel walls that separate the full kitchen from the full bathroom and provides some privacy to where the queen sized bed is. Light comes in from the top, filling the space with luminescence. There’s a mini-fridge filled with goods, plush towels set on the table with a personalized welcome card, down duvets that are soft to the touch.    And it’s wrecked the moment Taehyung jumps on the bed with his arms and legs wide open like a starfish. He rolls over and props his head up with his hand — in the position where he often asks you in a breathy voice to paint him like one of your french girls. And he uses the same voice on you now while wiggling his brows, “Wanna ruin the sheets with me?”   You burst out laughing, but it sounds all too tempting. He could probably dump a load in you within five minutes, though you’re not sure if anyone could hear you from the outside. “Didn’t they say there’s planned activities in an hour? What if we don’t show up.”   “It’s fine. People come here for one reason anyway.” There’s a pause. “To fuck.”   You roll your eyes, setting your suitcase next to the bed and you look at the nightstand to notice mineral oil lubricants. You’re mildly impressed at the details. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”   “They won’t miss us.” Taehyung’s own attention is taken to a wooden basket on a shelf of the irregular shaped bookshelf and he comes over, only to grin when he sees what’s inside. “Honey. I think we should have some fun tonight.”   You turn around, wondering what he’s up to now. But any snarky remarks die on your tongue when you find a leather whip in his left hand and a ten inch, neon pink dildo in his other hand.   “Is that...even sanitary?!”    You can’t imagine how many people have used it.   “We can find out.” Taehyung fiddles around with it, pushes a button and the dildo begins to rotate, making the both of you laugh. “Honey, we gotta give them five stars on Yelp! They have a communal sex toy bin for us to use! We can’t get this anywhere else.”   “Oh god. I’d rather not share my sex toys with anyone.” The two of you are interrupted by muffled folk music that begins to leak inside and it persuades you to go out. “C’mon, we should go check out what they have. If we have to spend five days here, we might as well meet some other people too and be social or whatever.”   Taehyung grins, tossing the dildo back into the basket and joining your side. “You’re liking this place, aren’t you?”   “No. I just think the yurt’s half-decent.”   Taehyung can see right through you, but it’s a bit too early for the ‘told you so’ spiel so he holds back and the both of you step outside of the yurt. There’s a few people hanging around and the weather is more bearable as the sun slowly begins moving and setting over the horizon. You meet friendly newlyweds who are surprisingly having their honeymoon here.   “We just can’t wait to have kids,” Rose, the young twenty three year old, says as she embraces her husband, Hoseok. They’re no strangers to publish displays of affection, openly kissing up on each other. It would make you a bit uncomfortable if not for how touchy Taehyung is as well.   When you first got together all those years ago, your friends teased you about it but it’s been years since. No one’s a stranger to how you plop yourself down on Taehyung’s lap or how he might kiss you and then steal your food right off of your own plate.   “When we saw that the retreat offered a honeymoon package, we just couldn’t resist,” Hoseok says, but you’re not sure if he’s talking to you and Taehyung or his wife with how much he gazes at her. It’s a sweet sight though. You remember that honeymoon period.   “Remember when we were that young?” you ask as you leave to the other side, giving the couple some much needed privacy. It was obvious they weren’t up for more conversation with the way they’re shifting and staring at one another.   “When you were still hot? Yeah. I do—” Taehyung bursts out laughing when you jab him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You’re still hot, okay? The hottest chick here and you’d make the hottest MILF too.”   “Damn straight.”   The pair of you also run into another couple that’s older and appears a lot more comfortable with the place. “Oh, this is actually our second time here! The first time gave us the four year old troublemaker running amok back at home.”   You blink in surprise, suddenly more interested in the conversation. “This place...worked for you?”   “It sure did.” The woman, Dahyun, smiles. “Some people didn’t have as much luck as we did, but we had so much fun last time that we knew we just had to come back. We were actually staying in your yurt last time.”   She points and you swivel your head over, intrigued. “Huh.” Taehyung raises a brow, noticing how engaged you are and the corner of his mouth tugs.   Her husband, Seokjin, chuckles heartily. “We thought it was time to give our son a younger brother, so here we are! Tonight’s the welcome party and just a word of advice, I really recommend getting some of that grilled salmon. It’s absolutely delicious.”   “Just let them eat whatever they want, Jin,” his wife sighs in exasperation.   “I’m just saying! I would’ve liked to know last time — I would’ve gotten two plates before they ran out.”   “This is why the doctor told you to eat less of everything. You ate more than I did when I was pregnant with Youngjae.”   “I can’t help that I’m eating for three! For your information, I’m carrying the entire family on these broad, broad shoulders of mine. Soon, I’ll have to start eating for four.”   Dahyun turns to you and Taehyung who are amused at their bickering. “I’m sorry. Please ignore him.”   It’s not a bad place, at least not so far. You weren’t sure what you were anticipating, but on the entire way here, you were worried that it was a scam your poor husband fell for. Luckily though, it seemed like the accommodation is good and the people around are friendly and welcoming, coming from different kinds of backgrounds and walks of life. It makes you feel better about not having internet connection or being murdered in the middle of the night.   The welcoming party turns out to be fairly nice too, and like Seokjin said, the food is delicious.   It’s a buffet style with tables set out, full of what Jimin declares is antioxidant-rich foods. He and Hyunjin go on a tangent about the benefits, how soy and estrogen foods have been limited, how there’s an emphasis on fruits, vegetables, carbohydrates, proteins and folic acid, and you’re sorely impressed at the attention to detail they provide.   “Oh my god. The salmon is amazing and have you tried these beans, Tae?!”   Taehyung laughs as he watches you eat, eyes lifted to look at you across the rounded table. “I thought you hated beans.”   “I do. But try it.” You lift your fork and he happily leans over, taking a bite. He swallows it down and smiles at how you stuff your cheeks.   After dinner, the pair of you gather with the rest to watch a few performances held on the main stage. Jimin introduces other staff members who sing, dance and Hyunjin even does a number with her ukulele, belting out some indie songs while standing bare feet.   It’s bizarre and a bit surreal to be sitting back in a lawn chair and watching some chick with flowers in her hair jump around and try to entertain you, but it’s not completely unwelcome. If anything, you were sort of having fun. The sun had set, making the weather milder. The breeze was warm against your cheeks and the fairy lights strung above were twinkling.   The whole atmosphere lulled you and with your head leaning on Taehyung’s shoulder, every blink became heavier and heavier. “This is nice,” you mutter and he catches it.   Your husband turns his head with a tiny smile. “Yeah?”   “Mhmh...”    You feel a wet kiss being planted at the top of your head and you decide to indulge, closing your eyes for just a moment. But the next time they open, you realize that the crowd has thinned, they’ve put on music on the stereo and Taehyung’s windbreaker is draped on top of you as a makeshift blanket.   “Hey there, sleepy head.” He grins at you when he notices your lashes fluttering. “Want me to carry you back to the yurt?”   “I’m fine.” It takes a second to get up and you stretch your arms out before the both of you make your way back to the yurt. There were a few younger couples lingering around and still taking in the scenery, but the years were catching up to you quickly and all you wanted was to dive into the sheets and satiate the rest of your sleepiness. “How long was I out for?”   “About half an hour?”   Taehyung fishes for the key and opens the door. “I didn’t even realize I was so tired.” You manage to kick off your shoes and beeline to the bathroom to brush your teeth.   “Of course, you were tired. You didn’t even sleep on the bus and for the past few days you’ve been up late doing research.”   You mumble incoherently, not having enough energy to argue with Taehyung and he grins, nudging you aside so he can grab his own toothbrush.    In the next ten minutes, it’s lights out. You’re rolled onto the bed, tucked into the warm sheets like a burrito, and Taehyung’s settled in as well. You hear his exhale and you allow your muscles to relax in the comfortable darkness. The exhaustion that’s been built from the entire day washes over you. But before you can drift off, in the quietness of the room, you remember.   And you reach out, arm stretched, feeling for your husband.   Taehyung hums when you tap his shoulder. You feel him shift and mumble, “What’s wrong?”   “I’m fertile,” you mutter with your eyes closed. “You need to stick your dick in me.”   He bursts out laughing and his arm slings over your abdomen. “It’s okay if we don’t have sex tonight, you know.”   You sigh, too fatigued to get up and do the job yourself. “We’re gonna miss our opportunity, Tae.”   A soft kiss is pressed to your temple, and you feel yourself losing the fight to keep your consciousness. “We’ll have other chances. Relax.”   “Relaxing….isn't gonna give us a baby.”   “No, but it will keep my current baby sane.”   After being together for so many years, Taehyung knows how to make his words sound sweet and enticing. And before you can even damn him for always catering to you and babying you, you’ve fallen asleep in his arms.

[Day Two]   Breakfast is as incredible as dinner was. There’s a full fruit platter that’s apparently all organic and a number of carbohydrates to fill yourself all the way to lunch. But you begin to regret eating so much with the scheduled activity that follows.   “Couples yoga is a way to build intimacy and trust with your partner.” Hyunjin and Jimin smile brilliantly and you wonder if they’re happy go lucky all the time. It must be fucking exhausting.   “Taehyung.” You nudge the man beside you who’s intently listening and he turns his head. “You know I’m not flexible at all.”   “Don’t worry.” He flashes a blazing grin. It’s way too early for this. “This is just for fun and I’ll catch you if anything.”   “No. Last time I tried doing yoga, I pulled a muscle in my thigh—”   “Oh look. They’re doing the first pose!” Your husband excitedly lugs you down and you’re forced to comply, crossing your legs and facing him.    It’s simple at first. There are basic poses with him leaning against you. Although it is hard to find a good balance considering how tall Taehyung is and even for being lanky, he’s quite a bit stronger than you are. But when Hyunjin and Jimin begin to twist themselves around and Jimin holds her up by the feet with a single hand, you know it’s impossible.   Unlike Taehyung, you never did cheerleading or any acrobatics.   “You’re going to drop me or I’m going to snap your spine, Tae!”   “Don’t you trust me?”   You look at your half-monkey, half-clown of a husband. “Do you really want to know the truth?”   The both of you collapse into a heaping mess before he can confirm or deny. He laughs and starts tickling you for not being able to listen until you’re begging him to stop before you look more like an idiot than you already do.   There’s a few couples who do a good job and you giggle when Taehyung mutters passive aggressive comments on how they’re teacher’s pets or that their form is awful. But there’s the fair share of other pairs who do as bad as you, namely Seokjin and Dahyun, the old couple from last night, bickering at being unable to do any poses.   You can’t say that couple’s yoga is particularly relaxing, but it’s silly and you find yourself having fun.   Hyunjin leads the cool down exercise and Taehyung nearly whacks you in the head with how he stretches. Your glare gains his exaggerated pout then cheesy smile. “Now as the very last cool down exercise, we’re going to take our partners by the hand.”   You mimic her and clasp Taehyung’s hands, awaiting further instructions.    “And we’re going to gaze into their eyes.” What? “Focus into the colour of their irises, how brown or blue or green they might be, or even the pattern of them. Sometimes we don’t truly look at one another like we should.”   “What are they even saying?” you mutter and the corner of Taehyung’s mouth twitches. In spite of how bizarre it is, you follow and stare into Taehyung’s rounded eyes. They’re brown. Like they’ve always been.   But you must admit, when the morning sunlight catches his irises at particular angles, the colour is a lighter shade than usual. They’re quite bright too.   “They say if we gaze into the eyes of someone we love, our heartbeat synchronizes together.”   What? Your brows furrow skeptically and you’re about to turn away, but suddenly Taehyung grabs a hold of your chin. “Don’t look away,” he commands with an authoritative voice and you swallow hard.   “Okay.” You focus your eyes to enlarge and focus. “I’m looking.”   You wonder if this is a staring contest, but even with his wolfish smile and being married for so long, Taehyung’s intent stare starts to make you feel vulnerable. You wonder if he’s always looked at you so affectionately. More importantly, you realize that even with all his dumb antics — like deciding to paint the fence green and then stopping halfway or ripping out the cabinets in the kitchen and never replacing them like he intended — you still love this sweet and kind dummy.   “Alright. Everyone can relax now,” Jimin announces softly as he claps and you finally blink a few times, eyes stinging from how you forced them open. “That’s the end of this session. Thank you for joining everyone.”   Yet, Taehyung holds your gaze a moment longer. And before you can pipe up and tell him it’s over, the man leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips. He smiles when he pulls away. “As much as sweat is a good look on you, I think it’s time to shower, Mrs. Kim.”   You scoff and he holds your hand with an enormous grin, dragging you back to the yurt.   The two of you hop into the shower together, a habit that Taehyung insists is to save water for the good of the environment, but you swear half the time, you end up wasting more than if either of you do it separately. You’re sure that right now is one of those times.   “Hey.” You turn around as he’s lathering up his shampoo.   “Hey, yourself.” He smiles and shifts towards the stream of water before screaming at how hot it is. Taehyung quickly adjusts it, dissipating the fog on the glass. “Why do you like bathing in molten lava, woman?”   “You always make it too cold.” You scoff, but don’t dwell on the argument as you lean into his backside. “Listen, should we get a quickie in?”   Taehyung frees himself of the soap and looks at you. “If we do, we’ll miss lunch and then the hike.”   “We’re going on a hike?!”   “Yep, so hurry up cause if we don’t get lunch, we’re not gonna make it!” He gets out of the shower, leaving you to be bludgeoned by the ice, cold water. You sigh in exasperation.   The purpose of coming here is to conceive, not go on a hike. But with how enthused he is, you begrudgingly join.   Afternoons are the worst out here. The sun is sweltering and there isn’t an ounce of a breeze or a wind. As a result, the heat stifles and lingers without dissipating, causing sweat to dampen your clothing and stick to the back of your neck. The weather exhausts you and you feel your creamy lunch pasta up your throat again as you lug your legs up the steep, rocky incline.    No matter how much you try to keep up, you fall behind from the group.   Taehyung twirls around with a big grin, mouth perfectly symmetrically. “Are you okay?”   “W-What does it look like?” you pant. It’s unfair that Taehyung works out once a year and treats his body like a candy trashcan but is still more fit than you are.    “I can carry you if you want.”   “You’re going to snap in half carrying me.” You pass him as he laughs.    You hear him catch up, feet skipping along like he’s playing hopscotch. Then suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted off the ground and you shriek, arms looping around Taehyung’s neck. You’re scooped up in his arms like he’s about to kick down the door into the bedroom, but instead, he starts sprinting up the path like a maniac.   “Taehyung!” you squeal and he laughs again.   “Isn’t this better?”   “Aren’t you tired?”   “If I say yes, you’re gonna think I’m trying to tell you to lose weight, but for the record, I like how soft you are.”   You roll your eyes, embarrassed as you pass a few couples, but none of them seem to find it bizarre and they even smile warmly at you and Taehyung. Yet, he starts to slow down tremendously after a few minutes, panting and sweating profusely. You ask him if he’s going to put you down yet, but you underestimate just how stubborn your dear husband is. Taehyung refuses until you’re up at the top of the trail, making it to where Jimin and Hyunjin are by the waterfall.    There, you’re finally on set on your feet again.   You pass him your water bottle. “Drink it before I’m the one dragging you down.”   He grins and downs it.   Up here, it’s much more refreshing and easier to breathe. There’s a tiny waterfall coming from the higher mountains and there are trees around to provide shade. When you squint, you can see the campsite at a distance with all the yurts.   “We should take some pictures!” Taehyung declares when he steadies his breath and pulls out his selfie stick from the hideous fanny pack that you still won’t admit is pretty convenient.   “Your mom is gonna want a copy so don’t pull any ugly faces, Tae.”   “My face is never ugly.” He tugs you beside him and snaps a few shots before reviewing them carefully. Taehyung always had an eye for these kinds of things. “We didn’t get a good angle of the water.”   “I can take it for you.”   “What’s the point if we’re not together?” His thick brows are furrowed, lips lopsided, sighing.   A matronly and friendly voice pipes up next to you, “Do you need any help?”   Dahyun is smiling with Seokjin beside her and Taehyung appears relieved. “Yes, please.”   She takes his phone as he folds back his selfie stick and she stands off to the side, capturing you and Taehyung smiling with his arm around you. “One. Two. Three. I’ll take another one.”   Dahyun changes the angle a bit and Taehyung leans over to pull on your cheek while you feign a glare at him. The second picture is taken while the woman and her husband laugh, endeared. “There we go. You can check them to see if they’re good.”   The phone is handed back and by Taehyung’s expression, it seems acceptable. “You two are too cute. When did you get married?”   “Oh, I think three years ago? Yeah. Three.”    It’s much longer than it actually feels. It seemed like it was a week ago when you first met in class and thought he was annoying. Like yesterday, he was supposed to propose at a fancy restaurant but failed when you found the ring box the night before — how he screamed at you to stop, but it was too late and he ended up going with it. They’ve all become memories that you cherish.   “We met back in school and dated a while before getting married.”   Dahyun smiles. “Have you decided how many kids you want yet?”   You hitch a thumb to Taehyung. “He wants four, but I’m fine with two.”   “The bigger the family, the better, right?” he says, looking up from the screen of his phone.   “Wait until you have kids, you’ll end up wanting more,” Seokjin chuckles, “That or you’ll want to give them all away, but personally, I could raise a whole football team if she’d let me.”   His wife jabs him in the ribs. “Yeah, because you’re not the one who has to give birth to them.”   “And that’s why you’re the boss of the house.” He pouts at her while the corners of his mouth tickle up into a smile, and she relents.   “Let’s be honest, the real boss of the house is our little troublemaker. I swear he took after all your bad traits.”   Seokjin gasps. “Excuse me, Youngjae is my most masterful creation...even if he painted all over our leather seats and popped our car tire with his batman toy.”   She shakes her head with a light sigh, but it’s hard to hide her beaming expression. “I should’ve known he would give me trouble when he went past the due date for two weeks.”   “T-two weeks?” you sputter.   Dahyun nods, finally having the sympathy she was trying to fish out of her husband. “My stomach was as big as a watermelon and I was in labour for fourteen hours before I ended up getting an emergency c-section and he came out a whopping ten pounds.”   Your head is swirling as you try to imagine a ten pound baby in this petite woman.   It almost seems like a horror story that’s waiting to be picked up by Hollywood.   “But honestly, the hardest part wasn’t the whole pregnancy or birthing process. It was afterwards.” Her exhale is long and fatigued. “Suddenly there’s another human being you’re responsible for and you have to take care of them while you’re still in recovery. I remember when Youngjae couldn’t stop crying in the middle of the night. I always had an idea that having kids was a lot of work, but you really don’t have time for yourself once they’re born, and not to mention my bladder was completely done for after the whole thing.”   “Alright, alright.” Her husband pulls her close. “I already know you’re a woman warrior. I saw it with my own eyes.”   Dahyun smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes and she turns to him, deadpanning, “No, you didn’t. You passed out half-way.”   “I was there in spirit,” Seokjin insists humorously.   Dahyun scoffs while Taehyung grins at their back and forth that’s reminiscent of his own dynamic with you. “But were they worth it?”   “Oh, a thousand percent,” Dahyun responds without needing a second to consider, expression softening. “Enough that I would want to do it all over again.”   She doesn’t get a chance to say much else when Jimin’s voice pierces through the chatter and everyone gathers together with the last stragglers who have finally made it up. “Thank you, everyone, for coming all the way up here. This is Serenity Falls that was actually…”   But his voice drowns out.   You linger on what Dahyun said, about child rearing and birthing, and there’s nothing that can be done to the uneasy emotion swelling inside of you.   The walk back down is silent. Done without a single complaint from you about the hot weather or how your feet ache. Taehyung notices, glancing at you several times. He doesn’t say anything until you’re back at the yurt.    “What’s wrong?”   You look at him from across the room. “Nothing, why?”   “You’ve just been quiet.”   “I just….” You inhale and decide to divulge him. “I was just thinking about what Dahyun and Seokjin were saying. Do you think we’re cut out for this, Taehyung?”   His head quirks to one side. “Why wouldn’t we be?”   “You and I can barely take care of ourselves.”   “That’s not true.”   “We forget to buy food all the time.”   “That makes midnight snack runs fun.” He grins.   You exhale an unsteady breath and Taehyung approaches you. He doesn’t mind how sweaty you are and wraps his arms around your waist. “We’ll figure it out. You said it yourself, right? One step at a time.”   “But what if it’s too much and you decide you don’t want to do it anymore? Or that...you don’t want to be with me?” He opens his mouth, but you keep going before he can jump in. It’s not just about you being self-conscious or needing reassurance. You’re simply trying to imagine the worst case scenario as realistically as you can. “Like when I’m still bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do.”   “I’ll still love you no matter the changes,” Taehyung murmurs earnestly, searching your expression. “Even if you’re bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do. I’ll use google to figure it out and get the baby to calm down and I’ll get you some chocolate and I’ll rub your feet.”   You scoff lightly. “You make it sound so easy.”   “Maybe because it won’t be as hard as you think. I’m great with kids and we got killer teamwork, you know, plus this baby’ll be the best project we’ve ever done together.”   “A project that’s gonna last us eighteen years.” You smile.   Taehyung laughs, the sound mellifluous in the room. “Which isn’t that long considering how fast time moves.”   You hum and encircle your arms around his neck. Taehyung gets the hint and leans in to seal your lips against his, slotting them together to kiss you the way he knows you like it.   It’s slow, comforting, an opportunity to revel in the softness of his lips. Taehyung gives you courage — he always has and when you break apart, smiling against each other, you feel worlds better than before. “I’m gonna start a bubble bath. You can join me if you want.”   It’s less of a suggestion and more of a demand, one Taehyung fully recognizes and makes him smile in amusement as you saunter away. Taking advantage of the tub in the bathroom, you lower the stopper of the drain and dump in the soap they offer. The water gets filled three quarters way with a layer of bubbles and you strip. You sigh as you get comfortable in the tub.   “Is it warm?”   Your husband leans against the doorway, arms crossed and the corner of his mouth curled.   “Uh-huh.” You loll your head on the edge of the tub and lift up your foot, watching the way the water cascades off your skin. “Are you not going to get in?”   “Maybe later,” Taehyung surprisingly replies. He rarely rejects any chance at jumping your bones when you’re being this forward about it. There’s no hike or lunch to catch that’s preventing him from having fun with you either. But as your husband walks out, you catch him unceremoniously stealing the clothes you have prepared and the stack of towels by the sink.   “What are you doing?”   “There’s no point in covering yourself up if I’m gonna strip you anyway.” He flashes a mischievous grin and you sigh, relenting in his antics. You simply lay back to enjoy the water, muscles relaxing and your brain that’s constantly in overdrive empties.   After ten minutes, your skin begins to wrinkle, so you drain the water and get out. But the moment you stand up, the cool air conditioning slams into you and your body starts to shiver.   “Taehyung!” you shout and hear silence. “At least give me a towel!”   Fortunately for you, there’s a smaller one on the rack he missed so you swipe at it and wrap your shoulders to protect yourself. But you’re still dripping wet and in need of your clothes, so you stomp out to find your ridiculous partner who’s apparently five years old and—   “HA!” Said man you’re searching for bursts out of the closet and you scream, startled half to death, nearly falling to the ground. Taehyung starts to laugh like a maniac.   “Are you serious?!” You gawk at him. “How long did you even wait there for?”   “Like five minutes ago.” The bastard wolfishly grins. “Worth it though.”   You cock a brow at him, sighing. “So that’s why you didn’t join me in the bath?”   “No. I didn’t join you, so I could do this.” He yanks the towel where your breasts meet, leaving you nude. Goosebumps rise all over your skin and your nipples harden in the frigid air.   You screech, arms trying to cover yourself. “Taehyung, it’s cold!” “I can warm you up,” he says but then runs away when he reads the glare on your face, giggling boyishly. It’s completely childish. If anyone was watching, you’d be mortified, but it’s been a long time since there was any shame in your marriage, so you stomp after him while nude.    You hunt the man down while he tries to evade by rounding the coffee table. It’s no longer about grabbing clothes or covering yourself up, it’s time for revenge.   Luckily, the yurt isn’t big enough to have a game of tag. You manage to reach him and you steal the opportunity to yank his pants down. Taehyung, mid-laugh, trips on his feet and stumbles on the carpet. You burst out giggles, looking at his ass in the air and he giggles too from the infectious sound bubbling up your throat.   “Oh, you’re gonna get it now,” He mutters in a low voice with half-lidded eyes and you scramble away with another shriek.   “You started it!” You jump onto the bed and Taehyung kicks off his pants. You don’t ask why he’s skipped out on wearing boxers, but you notice he’s already half-hard and that only makes you laugh louder.   He chases after you as you duck and steal his own tactic of rounding the coffee table. But unfortunately for you, Taehyung has always been destined to win with his longer legs. He catches you within two strides and snatches you as you scream. You’re thrown over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes and he smirks. “Caught you.”   “Taehyung! People are gonna hear!” You laugh in spite of being the one who’s making most of the noise and he tosses you onto the bed. Usually, you hate to be manhandled, but your husband’s the only exception to the rule.   “Let them hear.”   He hovers over you and the laughter dies down. Taehyung stares earnestly into your eyes and your breathing becomes shallow. But you don’t like to lose and as his wife of three years, you know his one, true weakness.    Your fingers lift to Taehyung’s armpits and he seizes when you start tickling him. You laugh when he does and once he doubles over, there’s an opening to the left, a perfect escape route. You steal the opportunity while you still have it and start to climb off the bed, but he regains his breath and grabs your ankle, tugging you back to him in one swift motion without even needing to try.    Taehyung grins. “God, you’re such a brat sometimes.”    “Yeah, and I know you like it.”   He grabs your wrists before you can make another tickle attack and pins it above your head. You can tell that there’s no more time for jokes or any more playing around, not when you can feel his hard cock against your stomach.   “You smell good,” he sighs into your neck, inhaling deeply. “Cherry blossom? Peony?”   “Strawberries,” you answer. “You smell like sweat.”   “You’re gonna end up like me anyway.” Taehyung smiles and leans in to kiss you. It isn’t shy or chaste. His tongue licks into your mouth and you exhale, a strangled moan muffled against his lips as you melt against him. He finally has you where he wants and you let him take control.   The pair of you swap spit for a few minutes until he releases your hands, allowing you to curl your fingers into his shoulders as he caresses your waist.    Taehyung eventually breaks away with a playful glint in his eyes. “You wanna try the toys?”   You both look at the basket half across the room and he rolls off of you. You get to your feet to inspect it for yourself and discover an array of colourful gadgets, some that you’ve tried before and others that you’re sure needs to have an instruction manual with it.    “I’m not putting any of these dildos in me, Tae. I don’t know where they’ve been.”   “I know.” He lays with his head propped up by his hand and you eye something at the bottom of the basket. You pull out a leather whip and look at him. “Ooh, a classic pick there, sweetheart.”   A whip seems more sanitary considering it doesn’t have to go in anyone’s orifices.   “Is it?” You approach with a tiny smile, staring down the innocent man. “Roll over.”   “What?”   “I’ll whip you.” You grin and he blinks at you. More often than not, you’re the more submissive one in bed, but the idea of having Taehyung crying out and the idea of you cackling at his pain has him immediately rolling face down in intrigue and you stepping up on the bed.   He turns his face to the side. “Do you know how to do it?”   “How hard can it be?” There’s a pause. “But tell me if it hurts.”   “The point is to make it hurt, Y/N.”   “Yeah, but I don’t want to hurt you-hurt you.”   “I can handle it.” Taehyung smirks and you scoff.    Even in this position, he’s trying to maintain his dominance.   You grip it tightly and don’t count. Simply, with a flick your wrist, you slam the whip across his backside. It makes a loud cracking sound and you hear Taehyung sharply inhale. His teeth grit and you freeze, watching his expression carefully.   “How was it?”   “Is my back split open?” he asks, trying to look over his shoulder.   “No.”   “I think I might have to go to the ER.” He sits up completely, overdramatic in the way he fumbles around and his tone filled with some mischief. “I think there’s internal bleeding. Or my spine is broken. I wouldn’t be surprised.”   “It’s fine, Tae.” you laugh. So much for telling you to go for it. But you already had an inkling Taehyung wasn’t one for receiving pain. After all, he’s still your whiny baby who only eats vanilla yogurt. “Not your thing?”   “Not my thing.” He takes the whip from your hand and tosses it across the room. “I have a better toy in mind.”   You’re about to remind him you’re not gonna put any of those communal toys inside of you, but he instead walks over to his suitcase and starts tearing some clear packaging open with something pink inside. You read the label — it’s a remote control vibrating egg.   Your brows furrow. “When did you get that?”   “Two days before we left. Amazon prime, babe.”   “So that’s what you were looking at when you told me you were doing some online shopping?”   “Precisely.” Taehyung grins and you’re not sure if you should be pleasantly surprised or in dismay since the two of you have already made a pact not to buy anything else online. The treadmill bought on an impulse is still taking up half the space of the living room.   Before you can think too much, Taehyung gets it open and comes over. He nudges your thighs to open and you lay back, leaning against the headboard. You’re not that wet yet, if at all, but it doesn’t stay that way when his long fingers rub against your clit in circles.    With his other hand, he strokes against your slit and then sinks his index finger in knuckle deep. You throw back your head, moaning his name at the intrusion while he remains silent, intently watching your pink cunt squeeze. Taehyung curls his finger and swallows hard. The sloppy sounds of your cunt fill the room and he hums in satisfaction.   “Okay. Ready?”   “Uh-huh.”   The head of the cold egg meets your folds and it slowly enters. While the toy might not be big or long, the girth stretches against your warm walls and you keen. Taehyung makes a low noise, encouraging you to take it. When it’s in, he smiles brilliantly. “Good job, sweetheart. You did it.”   “Now what?”   “This, of course.” Taehyung dangles the remote in front of you and then like a psycho, he ramps it up to the highest possible setting. Intense vibrations are felt through your body instantaneously and you cry, head knocked back against the headboard as your velvet walls squeeze and tremble.   “T-Taehyung!”   “Good?”   “I-It’s too much!” You’re completely at his mercy and he takes advantage of it, drinking you in with a wolfish smile. You’re unable to muster a glare at him, reduced to a complete mess while your center leaks and drips onto the sheet. Still, you try to reach over to the remote.   He dodges when you lunge at him. “Nu-uh.”   Luckily, you get a hold of your husband and climb over to him. His arm is extended straight up, laughing as you try to snatch it from him. He waves it inches away to mock you while enjoying the sight of you quivering on top of him. “T-Tae!”   “Okay, okay.” He laughs and transfers it into his other hand, about to turn the setting down a notch. But right at the moment you’re about to snag it for yourself, the remote flies out of his hand. It falls through the gap between the wall and the headboard.   It clatters to the ground.   “Oh shit.”   “Taehyung!”   “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He rolls off the mattress and looks underneath the bed before abruptly standing. “I’m going to need a long stick or something.”   He starts to look around the room, searching for a tool to grab the remote that’s out of reach, and you don’t know if you should suffocate him with a pillow or facepalm yourself hard enough to get knocked out into a coma.   You can pull out the egg yourself, but the violent vibrations were beginning to thrum pleasure through you, so as your useless husband goes fishing for the remote, you finish the job. Your fingers play with your clit, rubbing the bud as your slick drips down your thighs and you come hard on the toy.   The same moment light flashes beneath your eyelids and your toes curl, Taehyung grabs the remote with the help of a rolled brochure and shuts it off. The both of you are winded for different reasons.   “You know, I'd say that was pretty hot if not for how stressful that actually was.”   “You’re an idiot.” You tug the toy out of you and bat him over lazily, feeling spent on how hard you came. “Now dump some sperm in me, idiot.”   Taehyung has a cheesy grin and climbs over you. Despite the struggles of grabbing the toy’s remote, he’s fully hard from the noises you were making. “I’d tell you to ask more nicely, but I’ll let it go.”   He aligns the head of his weeping cock to your swollen cunt and leans his weight into you. He starts to push in and you whine, gripping his forearms. As wet as you are, Taehyung is still well-endowed — less girthy than the toy, but there’s a considerable length to him.    When he bottoms out, you can feel him all the way to your throat.   He tucks sweaty strands of hair behind your ear and kisses you. “Sorry about earlier.”   “’t’s okay. It was fun,” you admit and he smiles, starting to work up a good rhythm. You feel hot in your face with the pressure of his body on top of yours, hardened nipples brushing against his chest. Your cunt pulses and squeezes around his length. It draws Taehyung’s groans into your neck.   “F-Fuck. You’re so tight.”   It feels good and you know he’s reveling in the pleasure too. His eyes are shut tight, the scrunch made between his brows and it entices you to reach up and kiss him to which he sweetly indulges you. Your tongues twine as you pant against each other and Taehyung starts to lose his pacing.   He bends your knee, hitting you at a deeper angle as his strokes become increasingly frantic and quick. You egg him on and he groans once more before he thrusts himself as deep as he can go and cums. Ropes of white paint your walls, the head of his cock against your cervix and filling your cunt and womb up. You can feel some of it dribbling out, seeping past your folds and when Taehyung’s about to withdraw, you quickly grab his forearm.   “Wait. Just stay put for a second. I have to keep it in.”   He nods and kisses your lips. “Okay.”   Taehyung nestles into you, nuzzling into your neck and you hope this is the one.

[Day Three]   There were lots of activities and amenities offered and advertised by Jimin during the introduction of the retreat, but you realize you might’ve missed over the most important one of all.   “How does that feel?” the massage therapist asks as she works a knot out of your shoulders and smooths your skin with the oil.   “Amazing,” you murmur from the corner of your mouth, melted against the table.    Couples massages were something you always scoffed at, but holy shit, it’s absolutely paradise. With the breeze blowing through the pitched tent and the glowing humidifier releasing a fresh scent, you’ve never been more relaxed as all the stiffness is worked out of you.   You open your eyes to see Taehyung enjoying it as well — though not as much as you are since he’s quite ticklish. Sometimes, he squirms a bit too much and his massage therapist is at a loss of what to do.   But when it’s all done, you feel like you’re in a new body. “Oh my god. I think I’m more flexible than before. Look, Tae!”   You stretch your leg and he giggles at how happy your mood is. “If I knew you liked it this much, I would’ve signed us up for one at the spy near the gym.”   Your eyes are wide, catching the sunlight. “Do you think they’re as good as this place?”   Taehyung grins. “Probably.”   “We should go when we get back then. Oh, do you wanna check out the library?”   “Sure.”   You grab his hand, lacing your fingers together and he smiles to himself.    It’s a free day without many planned activities, giving you both an opportunity to look around the retreat for yourselves and take it easy. And the pair of you take full advantage of the opportunity. Since morning, you were lazing around the yurt and after breakfast and the massages, you decide to lay in one of the hammocks by the trees while Taehyung naps with you.    Said man hasn't seen you this stress free in a while, so he happily indulges you in all your wishes. Even when night falls and you step away from the stage where Hyunjin is performing again to stargaze. It’s an odd activity for you since mosquitoes love to especially swarm around you when given the chance and on numerous occasions, you’ve been a moth landing spot.   But tonight, the breeze is soft and gentle, and you don't feel any tickles on your skin that isn’t Taehyung’s hand grazing against yours. The grass is pliant beneath your feet and the fairy lights twinkle far away enough that its luminescence doesn’t obstruct. You knock your heads back to view the horizon, allowing the darkness to engulf you and the stars to emerge.   “Remember Bali?”   “When you lost your passport?”   “When we went stargazing with the tour group,” Taehyung corrects. “It still wasn’t as beautiful as this.”   “You think everything in front of you is the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You said that about the Eiffel and then Tokyo Tower.”   He laughs. “Hey, my mind doesn’t change that often. You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.”   You scoff, looking away from the sky towards him with a pout. He always knows how to lay on the sappiness without needing to blink. Your dear husband has always been shameless in that aspect and you adore him for it. “So I’m a thing to you now?”   “You know that’s not what I mean.” He wraps his arms around your waist. The both of you stare up at the sky. “Is that the big dipper?”   You look at where he’s pointing to the large clusters of stars. “I can’t see it. Maybe that’s scorpio.”   “Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung tries guessing, “It might be taurus or gemini. Or libra.”   “Aren’t you just naming astrological signs now?”   “Maybe.” He grins. “I’m a capricorn.”   “Yes, I know.” You two of you clearly don’t know anything about constellations or how to find them, but it doesn’t make the moment any less enjoyable. Yet when your necks start to ache, he takes your hand and strolls down the path through the trees. “Taehyung. What if we get lost?”   None of you have your phones or any flashlights. There’s only the crescent moon giving off its light. “Don’t worry. I have a great sense of direction.”   “You and I both know that’s not true.”   “You have a great sense of direction, so we won’t get lost,” he says and you sigh without putting much of an argument up. Not when you knew he was headed to the lake you had peeked at earlier in the afternoon, and now it was shimmering with the moonlight, reflecting the starry horizon in its water.   There’s a certain kind of peacefulness, a serenity that you would never get back in the city or even the suburbs. Certainly not without light pollution or the occasional car whizzing past. Here, there is none of those noises, none of those distractions, just you and Taehyung savouring the view⁠—   “Hey.” But of course, your mischievous husband has to have ulterior motives for coming all the way here. And you know there are ulterior motives by that glint in his eye and the sly smile he has.   “What?”    “Wanna take a dip?”   Your brows shoot to your hairline. “Are you crazy? It’s probably freezing! What if we get hypothermia and die?”   “For the record, you’d make one beautiful angel. But I’ll warm you up before it gets to that point.” Taehyung grins and starts stripping, tugging his shirt right off his head. It’s always been like this — him proposing something out of your norm, you try to voice your concerns, and then you’re the one who’s diving head first into it without hesitation and end up having more fun than he does.   “God, it’s so cold!”    The moment the water touches your toes, you recoil. But you brace yourself and continue onward with your entire body shivering. It’s your first time skinny dipping ⁠— something normally reserved for rebellious teenagers and most certainly not for late twenty-some year olds. Yet neither of you have qualms, even if you’re shrieking and Taehyung is laughing and following behind you.   “It’s freezing, Taehyung!”   “Come here.” He pulls you to him so your backside is pressed to his front and you wonder how Taehyung can be so warm all the time. The pair of you get waist deep into it and you turn around to grip him. Your husband smiles and holds onto you, eventually going far enough that the water reaches your shoulders. “See? Isn’t this nice?”   You hum, gazing up at the stars and the moon, the sight reflected on the water and how you’re pressed to Taehyung. “Seems like the beginning of a horror movie.” He laughs and your feet try to reach down to find stability, but you realize you can’t touch the ground anymore and your grip on him tightens. “Walk back a bit, Tae.”   “Why?”   “You know I can’t swim.”   His mouth curls. “But I like how you’re holding onto me. I won’t let go,” he adds after a long pause, “if you beg me not to.”   Your arms immediately come to loop around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist, latching onto him in a vice grip like a koala does to a branch. “Taehyung! I’m not kidding.”   “Oh...oh!” The bastard pretends that he’s gonna let go of you and actually does for a split-second. He laughs at your panicked expression. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!”   You feign a pointed glare that turns out to be more of a pout. “You’re lucky I like you.”   “You only like me?”   “Yeah and if you keep going, I’m going to demote you from husband to friend.”   Taehyung makes a pained, sharp sound. “Can’t let that happen then.” He suddenly hoists you up higher, grip secure on your thighs and smiles brilliantly while you scoff.   You savour the view and the warmth of his body heat, but you’re slightly distracted. “Do you think anyone’s gonna steal our clothes, Tae?” You squint at the small pile near the shore.   “Who would?”   “I don’t know. What if a bear comes from the bushes and takes them? We’ll have to walk back naked.”   “I’m pretty sure there aren’t bears here, Y/N. Stop overthinking it.” Taehyung suddenly grabs a hold of your chin and turns your head for you to look only at him. Then, he kisses you in a soft and gentle way before the tip of his tongue meets the seam of your lips. You happily oblige, parting them and allowing him access to your tongue and giving him a taste of you.   The man hums in satisfaction as soft smacking noises fill the surroundings. You lean into his firm frame while Taehyung’s large hands slinks from your thigh to the curve of your ass. You feel his thumb probe against your folds.   “T-Taehyung.” His hard length is beneath you and you grind down on him, feeling empty. It draws a groan from his throat.   After a moment, you get his cock inside of you. The stretch soothes the itch you had, filling your cunt deliciously. But unlike the movies, it’s not enough for you. The water washes away the lubricant, each stroke rough and the glide slower than you’d like. So you beg him and the both of you are dragged up onto the shore again.   You turn on all fours. The pebbles uncomfortably dig into your knees, but it’s a distraction that blurs into the background when Taehyung pounds into you. You feel all of him, his body heat against yours, each thrusting movement flicking off the droplets of water from your skin. And when Taehyung turns your head to kiss you while rubbing at your clit, you cum around his cock.   He finishes as you beg for it and Taehyung’s sticky fluids leak down your thighs on the trek back.

[Day Four]   Taehyung blinks blearily, slowly coming to consciousness. He scratches his bed head and groans at how his muscles ache. But when he turns his head, the other side of the bed is cold and empty. His eyes widen in confusion and he feels more awake than before.   He checks the time and realizes he slept in, a total of ten hours, which isn’t a surprise considering how last night’s rendezvous continued and was more intense than usual. What is unusually, however, is that you’re gone.   But he soon finds you outside. Bathing in the sun. Laying in a hammock. Napping with a book next to you.   Your eyes flutter open as his shadow covers your figure. The corner of his mouth pulls.   “Morning.”   You sheepishly grin. “Morning.”    “What time did you get up?”   “Like an hour ago. The breeze was nice so I thought I’d do some reading, but I guess I accidentally fell asleep.”   “Looks like you’ve gotten comfortable.” Taehyung’s enormous smile aches his cheeks. You’ve fallen in love with this place more than he has, but he doesn’t mind whatsoever. He loves watching you have fun.   The two of you have breakfast, inhaling in the food, and then head to a meditation class on the grass led by Hyunjin. Typically, Taehyung has to convince you to take part in such a session and you’d usually wave it off as a waste of time. But there are no qualms or an ounce of hesitation in your expression when you head over.   “Now breathe in, and out, a steady stream of breath. Think about all that you are grateful for. Everything that has made your life amazing, and let that positive energy surround you as the negative energy releases.”   But while you’re eager, Taehyung, on the other hand, finds out that meditation is not cut out for him. He’s bored out of his mind from the lack of stimulation. Time feels like it’s dragging on slower, each second a minute and a minute is an hour. Somehow, meditating makes him feel even more exhausted than before and his mind ends up wandering.   Taehyung thinks about how he’s really craving some fatty burgers instead of the organic oatmeal and yogurt he had — how hot the weather is — how it’s hard to breathe — how sweat sticks to his skin.   “Hold your breath for three seconds and release for three seconds.”   He sighs and peels back an eye to see you with your hands pressed together, concentrated in following instructions. The corner of his mouth tickles into a smile.   As bored as he is, it’s worth seeing you happy.   //   The more excited you are about something, the more you run around from place to place and Taehyung’s resorted to looking for you. Luckily, the resort is small, so he finds you in front of the main building, chatting to a certain brunette with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks.   “—heard that doggy actually works for some people, but for me, it doesn’t feel right...like…”   “The head of the cock isn’t right up against the cervix?” Jimin hums thoughtfully. “Have you tried angling your leg better? Sometimes you need to bend a bit and he needs to be leaning towards the side rather than just hovering straight on top.”   What.   Taehyung’s brows lift and he quickly approaches. Your face lights up when you see him. “Oh, hey.”   “I was looking for you.” Taehyung throws his arm over your shoulder and subtly tugs you into his chest. He looks at the other man, eyes narrowed in on him which he doesn’t seem to notice.   “Sorry, I was just caught up with Jimin.”   “What were you talking about?”   “What position is best for conception.” You blink innocently like it’s not a big deal you’re exploiting the details about your sex lives to another guy, and while he’s not embarrassed whatsoever, it was a bit too much information being shared for Taehyung’s liking. “Turns out elevating the hips might not help as much as we thought it does.”   “Huh.” Taehyung deadpans, “That’s interesting.”   “I know, right?” Your expression is bright, oblivious to his turmoil. At the same time, Hyunjin exits from the building in yet another flower crown and flowy skirt. She smiles at the both of you and joins Jimin’s side, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek and holding his hand.   “Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.”   You smile at her. “No, it’s okay.”   The woman nods and looks to her partner while her voice drops into a more private tone. “Just wanted to let you know that Taehoon and I are done.”   As if to validate her words, a timid yet tall man exits the building and they wave goodbye to one another before he walks off towards the parking lot. Jimin smiles. “Did you have fun?”   “Yeah. It was nice.”   Both you and Taehyung exchange expressions. He wonders if you’re thinking what he is or if he’s understanding the insinuations correctly.    As if they catch the inquisitive looks on your faces, they smile in a relaxed way. There’s no need to explain anything to either of you when you’re strangers, but they’re open enough and Hyunjin says, “Taehoon’s my second partner.”   “Second...partner?”    “Hyunjin and I are in an open relationship,” Jimin clarifies in a friendly manner. “It’s not really traditional, but it works well for us.”   “Oh.” Taehyung and you wordlessly bob your heads. He’s pretty sure they mentioned it during their introduction but it slipped his mind. They must get asked a lot of questions too since Hyunjin answers what he’s thinking, telling the both of you there’s not a lot of jealousy involved since they trust each other wholeheartedly and communicate a lot. And rather than finding it bizarre, you’re left intrigued. Taehyung notices as you walk away.   “Do you want an open relationship too?”   “You know it would never work for us.” You lean over, hugging his arm. “I’m too possessive for that.”   He laughs. “Then what about talking to Jimin about our sex positions?”   “He’s a professional.” You shrug. “I thought I could get helpful advice. Why?”   “Nothing, it’s just kind of weird.”    Jimin doesn’t look like a professional. He looks like just some dude in khaki shorts and a white shirt, obnoxiously bulging biceps, probably has rock hard abs, and he’s in an open relationship and clearly doesn’t mind chatting up you, aka Taehyung’s wife.   “Are you jealous?”   “What? No.” Taehyung scoffs, suddenly defensive and you give him that look like you know him better than that. “I just don’t think we don’t need to ask for help yet, and at least not about our positions. We’re gonna have a baby one way or another, Y/N. We just have to be patient.”   “Tell that to my dying eggs.” You walk off and Taehyung grins.   “My sperm’s strong enough that it’ll rescue your dying eggs.”   //   Evening eventually comes and you try to revel in the surrounding sights, the atmosphere of the entire place and the very cozy yurt you’ve grown to adore. It’s sad knowing that tomorrow you’ll have to depart from the resort. You regret not coming here with a more open mind. That way, you could’ve enjoyed and embraced this place much sooner.   “Actually, I’m kind of glad. I’m getting sick of them serving the same food.”   You’re shocked at your husband’s apathy. “But it’s antioxidant-rich—”   “I just want some fried chicken or a burger.”   You scoff. “That’s why the doctor told you to lower your blood sugar and you’re not even over forty yet.” But still, you’re taken aback that he’s not in love with the resort. “Out of everyone, I thought this would’ve been your haven. I was expecting you to beg me to build a cabin here or something to stay.”   Taehyung hums, leaning back into the chair. “I’m not saying the resort is bad. As long as I get to spend time with you, I like it. And I like that you like it.”   “Psh.” He always knows how to say the right thing, especially when he’s doing it absentmindedly and not trying to get something out of you. You lean over, hand lifting to squeeze his cheeks together and you turn his head to kiss him. Taehyung smiles at the soft and affectionate gesture. But you look at him with half-lidded eyes that mean more. “Wanna ditch?”   It’s the final celebration that Jimin and Hyunjin are happily hosting, but you don’t mind leaving for some more quality time with Taehyung, and he happily agrees.   The both of you sneak out of the crowd, stumbling back into the yurt, giggly and giddy like you’re still teenagers trying to be stealthy at midnight. Taehyung kisses you silly and soon, your back is hitting the mattress. He almost rips your dress with how hastily he tries to tear it off your head and you’re stuck for a moment until you manage to get it off.   But in spite of how childish your antics are or how Taehyung blows raspberries on your tummy, each one of his touches is intimate and loving. He holds your hips down and eats you out until you cum twice. Then you’re flipped onto your stomach with him on top of you — his cock is dug into your pussy, every draw and thrust delicious. Your walls pulse along his length and you moan his name and clutch the sheets with tight fists.   You relish in the pressure of his body pressed on top of yours as he pounds into you. It only takes a few minutes before he’s releasing into your womb, cumming hard enough that you feel it too.   He rolls off of you, spent, but you gather your energy and hold him down for a second round.   You’re a woman on a mission and you’re going to make sure you leave this resort with Kim Taehyung’s baby inside of you.

[Day Five]   The final day of the resort has arrived much to your dismay, and you feel sad enough to cry.   “Thank you so much for all you’ve done.”   “It’s our pleasure.” Hyunjin grins, her arms wrapped around Jimin’s. “We just hope you had a great time at our resort.”   “Yes, I really loved it.”   “Our doors are always open,” Jimin affirms. “If nothing’s stuck, you can always come back or if you’re ever looking for more siblings for the little one, you can come again too. We’re happy to welcome anyone that’s family back.”   You’re moved by their words and much to Taehyung’s dismay, you give a brief embrace to each of them. You also manage to see the newlywed couple, Hoseok and Rose, who are still smiling and somehow look even more in-love than when they arrived. Dahyun and Seokjin, as well, wish you luck on your adventures.    “We might be coming back real soon.” The woman sighs, hitching her thumb over her shoulder. “That husband of mine is planning to book another trip next month.”   “So soon?”   Dahyun nods with a long exhale. “I think he’s hoping I’m not pregnant so we can come here again.” Your laugh spurs on her own and you’re able to resonate with the hopelessness of husbands.   Everyone is boarding the same bus, but this is the last opportunity to gather when people are getting dropped off from different places. So you make sure to savour the moment, get your last goodbyes in, and Taehyung pulls out his phone to snap several pictures of you for keepsakes.   Then, the two of you board the bus with your luggage and settle in your seats.   “You know,” you pipe up and Taehyung turns to you. “Even if we didn’t conceive, it was still fun.”   He smiles while taking his hand. “Yeah? I’m glad.” Taehyung laces his fingers with yours and you lean your head on his shoulder as he, too, leans his head on top of yours.   The bus pulls out of the lot and onto the road. Jimin and Hyunjin wave with brilliant grins, and together, you and Taehyung watch the little resort become a particle in the distance.

[Epilogue]   This is terrible. Unexpected and spontaneous.   “I have bad news.” You’re leaning against the door frame of Taehyung’s office and at your tone of voice, your husband looks away from the computer screen with wide eyes.   “Are you divorcing me?”   “No.”   “Did you lose your job?”   “No.”   His entire body deflates in a sigh of relief and he leans back, hands grasping the armrests of his swivel chair. “Thank god because I just bought those new shake weights that were shown on TV.”   “Yea— wait. What?”   Taehyung’s bubbling laughter comes from his chest. “What is it?”   He doesn’t notice the stick in your hand, so you throw it at him. Luckily, Taehyung’s reflexes are still in good shape and he claps his hands together, catching the stick before it hits his head. But then his brows furrow in confusion.   “You’re probably going to need to wash your hands after that. I peed on it.”   He doesn’t answer. Your oblivious husband instead takes a long second to inspect the stick and his pupils dilate. He finally realizes what it is and looks carefully. In the meanwhile, you hitch your breath, feeling unsettled. But then the most enormous smile stretches into his cheeks.    It almost looks like his smile is about to break his face.   “You’re pregnant,” Taehyung murmurs.   “I sure am.”   He looks at you. And then the stick. Then he looks at you again. Taehyung searches your expression in alarm as your words echo back to him. “Why is this bad news? D-did you change your mind? Do you not want kids?”   You shake your head. “No. This is fantastic news. I just wanted an excuse to go to the retreat again.”   He laughs and exhales a long breath. Taehyung scoots his chair over using the heels of his feet and comes to you. He throws his arms around your torso in a secure embrace while his ear is pressed gently to the flat plane of your stomach that’ll soon swell in the coming months. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, woman.”   Taehyung’s brown eyes are lit with mirth and you ease into his hug as your fingers comb through his dark locks. Finally, you’re going to be parents. After waiting and hoping for so long, it was now on the horizon. There’s a sense of fear in you both, but you’re overwhelmed with euphoria and excitement.   “We can always go back for the next kid.”   “I haven’t even had this one yet and you’re already thinking of another.”   “I can’t help it.” Taehyung grins, looking up at you and you lean down to kiss his smile.   You have a feeling this baby’s going to be loved beyond belief.

[hcrringtonshair]

Sweet as sugar

Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary: Sarah Wilson is your best friend and she’s inviting you for dinner.

Word Count: 2048

Warnings: a few swearing words, alcohol consumption and fluff

A/n: Thank you sm for requesting this @buckybarnes101 !! I had so much fun writing this and I kinda got lost in it so it’s pretty long but I couldn’t stop myself 😁 Anyways, I really hope you like it!

Sorry for any grammatical errors, I don’t have a beta reader and I’m not a native english speaker.

Masterlist

(Gif credit goes to @emraanhashmi)

Dinner tonight at my place? The boys are asking for you like every 5 minutes and I want to see my best friend

With a big grin you looked at your phone reading the message from your best friend Sarah.

You checked the time, 4 pm.

Sure! Can’t wait to see you all again 😍 I’ll be there at 7? Oh and is Sam back home?

Your hand landed with a clap on your forehead, why did you ask this? But it was too late to delete it because Sarah already saw it.

You were best friends since college, and she knew about your secret crush on Sam all over the years.

But since he was off to be an avenger and safe the world you had given up any hopes and went into dating again. Not that successful but at least you tried.

We can’t wait either ☺️ Fine I’ll prepare dinner soon and yes Sam is here!

A tickle went through your stomach, and you couldn’t help but to smile, rereading the message before you jumped off your seat.

One of your colleagues looked up from the other side of the desk.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes. Uh.. Important stuff.”

You waved with the phone, grabbing your bag and jacket.

“I worked last Tuesday 3 hours longer. So leaving one hour earlier today will be no problem. Bye!”

After you rushed home, you realized you had no plan what to wear. Normally you showed up at Sarah’s in comfy clothes but today was different. Full of excitement you started to empty the wardrobe, looking for something special.

6:13 pm. Shit you would be there too late… As always.

You nearly stomped over a bunch of clothing that laid on the floor by heading to the door.

Only 10 minutes too late you arrived at the house, Sarah waved from the kitchen window as the door opened and two boys ran to you.

“Aunt y/n”

The two hugged you when you barely left the car, making one step back because of them rushing onto you.

“Hey boys.”

Smiling you put your arms around both of them.

“C’mon we have to show you our new video game!”

They both start running towards the house as you follow them slowly.

“They’re even louder than I remember.”

You laughed as you entered the kitchen, greeting Sarah with a hug, giving her a bottle of wine you bought in the city before.

“That’s because they have an uncle who encourages them, isn’t it like that Sam?”

For a moment you froze before turning around, following the view of Sarah to look at her brother who leans at the door frame.

Arms crossed on his chest, the tight sweater showing off every muscle on his broad arms.

His eyes wander down your body for a moment before they locked with yours again and a little smirk appeared on his lips.

The smirk that you loved so much and makes your heartbeat racing up.

“That’s absolutely right.”

He pushed himself off the frame, making his way to you.

“Long time no see sugar.”

You frown by him calling you sugar, not able to reply directly.

“World’s safe then I guess.”

When his arms wrapped around your body for a moment you held your breath.

You smelled his cologne, a mix of vanilla and cedar wood.

“Safer than ever.”

Before you could react he stepped back, noticing his hands brushing over your hips while letting go.

Automatically a bright smile showed up on your face, you looked at each other, and you didn’t notice the silence in the room before Sarah coughed giggling behind you.

“Sam would you mind to go and tell the boys they have to quit playing. Mr Liu is going to pick them up in 5 minutes.”

Not without winking at you Sam left the kitchen, you hear him laughing in the living room as you turn around.

“So what was that?”

Sarah handed you a glass of wine grinning knowingly, you both toasted.

“What?”

Making an innocent face after taking a few sips of the alcohol.

“This between you and him. I could literally feel the tension. And don’t lie to me, I know that you have a crush on him ever since I introduced you to each other.”

With every word you recognize your cheeks heat up and panic builds up in your stomach as you heard footsteps in your direction while she was speaking.

“Mr Liu is here.”

Sam’s face looked into the room, the boys rushing in to give their mother and you a short hug before leaving again followed by Sam.

When the door closed you breathed out heavy.

“There was no tension. We just haven't seen each other for a long time.”

You shrugged and saw through the window how Sam was saying goodbye to his nephews.

“Of course y/n. Next time tell me something I really could believe.”

Playfully you slapped Sarah’s shoulder and you both started laughing.

“Dinner is ready soon. C’mon let’s sit down outside.”

“Wow I nearly forgot how beautiful it is here.”

Astonished by the view of the last sun shining glittering on the calm water and the trees slowly waving in the warm breeze you made yourself comfortable on the bench on the veranda.

“If you would visit us more often you wouldn’t say that.”

Sam companies the two of you by sitting down next to you.

From the corner of your eyes you saw him casually resting his arm behind you.

You gave Sarah a haunting look which she answered with a giggle.

Her eyes switched from you to her brother and for a moment she stayed on him.

Since Sam sat down, your body had cramped, and you concentrated to act normal by emptying the glass of wine in one.

“Wow, slow it down, sugar. We don’t want you to be drunk before dessert.”

His giggling sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but to let out a nervous laughter.

“I’m honored that you care but don’t worry. I still have to drive home.”

You hadn’t noticed that Sarah left while you had spoken to Sam, so you turn around a bit, casually crossing your legs and resting hands folded on the upper thigh.

“Then I’ll give you more wine.”

His arm shoots around you to the table on your left to grab the bottle of wine, “More wine, less leaving.”

“Oh shit. Sorry guys, I forgot about Mrs Benoit’s Gutter. I promised her to fix it today.”

Sarah rushed out of the house down the staircase and you both flinched by the sudden interruption.

“But I already fixed it earlier this morning!”

Sam shouted at her when she headed to the car.

She waved with her hand, “She said it’s broken again! Dinner is ready, start eating without me, I’ll be back asap.”

Speechless you stared at your best friend, who was giving you a wink through the car window before driving away.

Seconds of silence let you inspect the fine fabric of your blouse.

“So then. Let’s go eating.”

You looked up, watching Sam going back on his feet reaching out for your hand.

For a brief moment you stare at his hand, feeling again your cheeks heating up before taking it timidly.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, it pounded so fast that you thought it would spring out of your rib cage every second.

The fact that Sarah already prepared the table with only two plates didn’t help.

“Damn it Sarah.”

You murmured as you sat down, Sam on the opposite laughed, his eyes shining in the dimmed light.

“I’m pretty sure that the gutter is fixed.”

“So am I. And I’m convinced that she will not be back soon.”

He opens up a beer and silently you both put some food on your plates.

“She was also bold enough to light candles. Didn’t know her romantic side until then.”

Sam laughed again at your words, nearly knocking over his beer can.

“She can be. Did you know how much she loved Dirty Dancing when we were younger? Or Titanic, god how many handkerchiefs were necessary for her tears.”

“Sounds familiar.”

Without looking at him you began to eat, grinning at the thought of a younger Sam who helps Sarah calm down after the death of Jack.

“Wait, don’t tell me that your most favorite movie of all time is Titanic.”

His eyes showed surprise and a bit of shock and you laughed again when his left hand wandered up to his chest, resting it where the heart is.

“No way! But I won’t lie when I say that I’ve cried when Rose realized that Jack is dead. It is an emotional scene and I will never not cry while watching this.”

You paused for taking the wine glass up to your lips, noticing that Sam was following your movements with his eyes.

You giggled into the glass, raising eyebrows which leads him to speak.

“I forgot how good you’re looking. No let me speak out.”

He raised one hand to stop you from speaking up.

“You’re really beautiful y/n. Sweet as sugar.”

He gave you a wink, his hand randomly brushing over yours as you both wanted to grab a spoon.

“Thank you.”

In your head you slapped yourself for that dumb answer, but it was impossible to make one right thought in your head since Sarah had left.

After dinner and three more glasses of wine you’d become more confident and put all your thoughts aside.

“So what next? I’m not ready to leave.”

“Maybe we should use the time, even though I don’t think that my sister will be here soon.”

He made a gesture to show you to follow him.

“We could watch a movie.”

He looked at a small shelf, left to the TV and you accompanied him, your eyes flying over the titles on the DVD boxes.

“What about that?”

You groan as he held Titanic in his hands, grinning down at you and wiggling with his eyebrows.

“No way unless you want to make me cry.”

“Maybe it’s just an excuse to hold you.”

The innocent glare he gave you before inspecting the cover of the box let your hands shake.

“You don’t need an excuse for that.”

Mumbling you choose another box holding it up so that he could read it.

“Sounds like an offer. Go make yourself comfortable, I’ll handle this.”

He took the box, and you made your way to the couch in front of the TV.

It wasn’t possible to concentrate yourself on Bad Boys II.

Soon as he sat down beside you, he had wrapped one arm around your shoulders and pushed you against his chest.

Immediately you had lied down your head on it which caused him to giggle lightly.

The alcohol had made your head go dizzy, and soon you felt how your eyelids become heavy.

“You’re sure you want to drive home? You can stay here, or I can bring you.”

His voice was close to your ear, and you flinched, you must have been asleep for a short moment.

“Oh no you don’t have to. I’m fine and besides, how will you come home then?”

“Then we’ll take my car, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow. But you can just stay here. We have a free room.”

With a big yawn you sit up, stretching out your arms before falling back against him.

“You know what. I’ll stay here. But you can pick me up from work tomorrow anyways.”

The blood shoots into your face as you heard yourself speaking, embarrassed you looked up to see him smile.

You stayed like this for a couple of seconds, his hands wandering up and down your back.

“You know what I can also do?”

“You could kiss me.”

You had spoken out loud your thoughts before you had really thought about it.

And he did, pressing down his lips onto yours and caused you to hold your breath for a moment.

The kiss was slow, his smooth lips moved perfectly against yours, and you couldn’t help but to grab his shoulders and push yourself closer to him.

“Sarah should leave us alone more often then.”

[maknaesdancersrappers]

beneath the daylight moon;

CHAPTER 1.

“Why do we sometimes see the moon, even during daytime?”

Jaehyun doesn’t know, nor did he care to notice that such a thing existed; it was a mystery to him, but you were a bigger enigma.

for the man who deserves the sun, the moon, and the stars; happy birthday, jaehyun ♡

“Why do we sometimes see the moon, even during daytime?”

It was a nice day out; sparse clouds rolled along the vast, celeste sky like cotton floating adrift in the cool breeze. As they pass by, the image of the moon appears stagnant behind them. It was bright enough to see the dark craters on its face, but not enough to outshine the warm sun on the opposite horizon.

Jaehyun returns his attention to you, unable to answer your question.

He walked up the two extra flights of stairs up to his apartment’s rooftop to scope out the area, eager to rent the space out for an area where he could garden. He hadn’t expected someone else to be here.

You sat on an old crate, leaning back on your arms, and staring up at the sky, wearing dark denim short overalls with dried splashes of paint over a white tee. You looked entranced by the scene above you, enough for Jaehyun to peek up as well and expect to see something like a plane passing by or a balloon a child had accidentally let go of.

Instead he saw a moon present during daytime. It wasn’t new to him, but it wasn’t necessarily something he paid attention to either. He was about to mind his own business until you asked him the question.

“Well?” You turned your head to him, maintaining your position.

“I—” Jaehyun stuttered, “I don’t know.”

You stared at him, stunned, before you pouted, bringing your attention back to the moon above you. “That’s no fun.”

He frowns, is it that fascinating? It’s barely even noticeable; just a transparent circle in the blue sky. “It’s just a moon. It’s there every night.”

You gasped at this, sitting up straight and putting a scandalized hand over your chest. He flinches in his place, surprised at your reaction. 

“Yes, we see the moon every night, but it’s daytime—” You gestured to it, “It’s a daytime moon!”

Jaehyun looked back up, warily watching the waning moon for a moment, before returning his attention to you. You were pointedly staring at him, waiting for a response. When he’s confused once more on what to say, you let out a dejected sigh. 

“No one understands.” You mumbled under your breath, standing up and dusting your bottom off. With one last look at the moon, you spun to face him, “You’re new here, aren’t you? I’ve never seen you before. What brings you up to the rooftop? No one ever goes here.”

“Oh, yeah, I moved in a few days ago. I was just checking it out to see if it’s good enough to be a garden space.”

“Garden space? Oh no…” You spun around, “That means this place will be a restricted area.”

“Not at all!” He said, “You’re free to keep coming here. I’m willing to share any of the fruits of my labor as long as it’s not abused. I’ll start with herbs, though. Actual fruits might take a while.”

You giggled, appreciating the little dimples on his cheeks as he joked. “Do you plant flowers?”

“I don’t.” Jaehyun replied with a little shake of his head, but when he sees your lips fall to a frown, he immediately takes it back, “But I’ve always wanted to. I don’t know what I should try first. Would you like to recommend some I should try?”

He wasn’t eager to take care of flowering plants. He picked up gardening so he could have fresh herbs and produce for cooking. Nevertheless, seeing your eyes brighten up after he asked you made him feel happy.

“Personally, I love Four O’clocks.” You told him, bashfully shrugging your shoulders, “I don’t know if they’re easy to grow though.”

“Four O’clocks?”

You nodded your head, “They bloom from four to eight in the evening. If they’re too difficult to grow, I heard sweet peas are easy to care for.”

“Sweet peas.” Jaehyun repeats, “Alright. I’ll keep those in mind.”

A blanket of silence fell between you with only the whispers of the wind and sounds of cars driving down the streets filled the air. He avoided your gaze, suddenly overcome with shyness, ears blushing with his cheeks.

You smiled to yourself, “Well, I should get going now.”

As you started to walk towards the only exit, he startled you by asking for your name.

“I’m Jaehyun.” He held out his hand to you.

Your eyes warily ogled his hand, pressing your lips together. Reluctantly, you stuck your hand out and softly gasped as he curled his fingers around your palm and shook it. “I’m… [Y/N].”

He smiled, cocking his head to the side as you both retracted your hands from one another. “Well, it’s nice meeting you, [Y/N]. Give me a couple of weeks and I’ll have this shabby rooftop brimming green. Maybe get fake grass for you to lie on to see your daylight moon better.”

He looked up above, catching sight of the faded moon peeking behind another cloud as it rolled by.

“I’d like that.” You sighed, following his gaze. “Well, I’ll have to go now. It was nice meeting you again.”

“Likewise.” Jaehyun raised his hand to wave you off, but you were briskly walking out of there before he could even do so. You were weird — not in a bad way. You were endearingly eccentric. He hummed to himself, glancing back up at the sky, pondering on the question you had asked him beforehand.

“Why do we see the moon during daytime?”

Jaehyun finally rented out the rooftop and two days after meeting you, had begun cleaning up the area. A part of him hoped to see you that day, he wished he had asked what your apartment number was, but then he remembered how hesitant you were to even shake his hand. That night he met you, he told his grandmother about you and the conversation you had about the moon. He thought his grandma would agree with you being a little odd, but instead he got scolded for his answer.

Now that he had time to think and look up the scientific reason behind daytime moons, he has an answer for you that he hoped you would like. 

After a few hours of tossing trash and debris into boxes for easy disposal, he took his work gloves off and sat down on the crate you used before. He wiped the sweat of his forehead with his forearm, panting loudly as he caught his breath. The rooftop was the perfect level to be cold when the wind blew, but still be warmed by the sun’s rays.

He peered up towards the sky, looking for the daytime moon. From what he understood from his google searches, today would be the last day to see it properly until the full moon passes. As he waited for a large cloud to pass, he felt like someone was watching and turned his head to the entrance.

You flinched when he turned to you, clutching the pale blue handkerchief to your chest. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Jaehyun swung his legs over the crate’s corners to face you properly, “I thought it would be you.”

“How would you know it’s me? There’s 15 other tenants here.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “I had a feeling.”

“Like, you sensed me? Like a… ghost?”

Jaehyun chuckled, shaking his head, “I wouldn’t go that far. You have a peculiar aura to you.”

“I get that a lot.” You curtly laughed.

He patted the empty space beside him after scooting over the edge and moving his water bottle to the floor. You took up his offer and sat beside him, folding your hands on your lap.

“I wish I could help you, but I only came out here for a breath of fresh air.” To demonstrate it, you inhaled deeply, slowly releasing it through your mouth. “It gets suffocating in my room.”

Jaehyun wanted to ask why, but you quickly changed the subject.

“Is gardening your hobby or is it related to your job?”

“Both — er, well, more of the first one. I want to start a restaurant; a classic Korean restaurant using my grandmother’s recipes. But being in a foreign country, the ingredients to make the recipes truly authentic aren’t readily available. And if they were, they’d be so expensive.”

You watched him swipe the bottle from the floor and take a lengthy gulp of it, nearly downing half of it. His Adam’s apple bobbed with every gulp, protruding out of his thick, creamy neck. You snapped yourself out of it, handing your handkerchief to him when he proceeded to wipe his brow with his forearm.

He quietly thanked you, dabbing the cloth over his mouth before dragging it over his forehead.

“What brings you to this small city anyways? I’d do anything to get away from here.”

“Came from Korea when I was just 5 years old, moved every few years because of my dad’s job, and eventually settled here with my grandma to take care of her.” Jaehyun turned his attention to the cityscape, “It’s nice and quiet, but not too rural.”

“Do you ever wish to go back to Korea?”

He didn't reply immediately as he continued to stare off into the distance. There was a large lake in the heart of the city; people fished there no matter what the season, they swam during spring and summer, and went ice skating during winter.

“I think if I ever went back, I’d feel like a fish out of water, you know?” He looked down to the water bottle in his hands, “It doesn’t matter if I have relatives I’m close to there or I’m fluent in speaking the language, I’ll still feel like a foreigner.”

You offered him a smile, “Well, that’s a given. Especially if you have that kind of mindset. You said you moved every few years, but you eventually settled in long enough before the next city, right? You’ll be able to call your ancestor’s land home eventually. I mean, you live in one of the apartments that predominantly houses Koreans.”

Jaehyun glanced at you, nodding afterwards, “I guess you’re right. But I don’t think I want to go back to Korea just yet anyways.”

“That’s understandable. You haven’t even started your garden yet.” You giggled, gesturing to the empty space in front of you. “I should be heading back anyways. It was nice talking to you.”

“It was. Next time, we’ll talk about you, alright?” He laughed, “Not fair that only I get to talk about myself.”

Once again, you hesitated, biting down on your bottom lip, “Alright. Next time then.”

He watched you slip through the open door, careful not to trip the heavy rock that kept it open. Dejectedly, he sighed at the mess he had yet to clean up. A part of him wanted you to stay longer, not even to help, but just accompany him. When he stood up, the handkerchief you lent him fell to the ground and he grabbed it, running after you.

“Hey, [Y/N], wait!” He yelled down the stairwell. You should have probably gone down just one flight of stairs since you left, but his voice just echoed back at him. Were you that in a hurry to leave? Confused, he resolved to wash your napkin first before giving it back to you.

Going back outside, he put his fists on his hips and studied the rest of the area he had to clean up. He could finish this in two — three days, tops. But the seeds, soil, and pots are coming tomorrow and he doesn’t want to bother his grandma by dumping all those in their tiny apartment. Like the distant sound of a telephone ringing, he got an idea and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

After half an hour and phone call later, Jaehyun’s close friend, Mark, comes to his rescue — although unwillingly.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to help you out,” He grumbled, hoisting a trash bag full of dust over his shoulder, “For free.”

“I promised you naengmyeon, didn’t I? Besides, don’t act like it’s all heavy lifting.” Jaehyun swept the ground with a broom.

He overheard Mark grumbling under his breath and chose to ignore it. He met the young man in college through his best friend, Johnny, who is Mark’s older stepbrother, and it was from them that he heard about this city. Mark’s only here for the summer break before finishing his senior year in college in the bigger state and Jaehyun’s going to make sure he utilizes him well.

“Yo! It stinks here!” Mark exclaimed, traversing to the other side of the rooftop he hadn’t even gone to yet, “Ew! Man, there’s a dead rat! And a bird!”

Jaehyun just laughed, “Just pack them up with the rest of the trash!”

“I’m not touching those!”

“Mark, you have gloves on, plus you can just push them into the bag.”

The younger man just grumbled again, “Those better be the best damn naengmyeon I’ll ever have!”

“Subak naengmyeon!” Jaehyun retorted, bursting out laughing when he caught the excited, surprised look on Mark’s face before he turned around and picked up the carcasses right away after placing a secondary barrier in the form of an extra trash bag over his gloves.

The next hour or so goes without a hitch and they finally cleared the entire rooftop before the 2 hour mark. They tied the trash bags together to make it easier for them to haul down to the floor below to toss it in the trash chute. 

“Was that so hard?” Jaehyun chuckled, breathlessly, while he pulled out your handkerchief from his back pocket and started to wipe the sweat build up all over his face. “Let’s drop this in the chute and I can make those cold noodles.”

“Yes!” Mark cheered, eagerly grabbing two bags and heading to the door.

After that was settled, they washed up in Jaehyun’s apartment and Mark played games on his phone while Jaehyun got to cooking. He would have asked him to help out, but based on experience, the younger man is better off not doing anything inside the kitchen aside from eating.

Halfway through preparing the meal, Jaehyun’s grandma came out of her room and Mark enthusiastically greeted her.

“Oh, Little Markie.” She fondly cooed, “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I helped Jaehyun clean up the rooftop and he’s repaying me through cold noodles.”

“It’ll be ready in a while!” Jaehyun chimed, “This is exactly for 3 people.”

“Go on ahead without me, I’m going to head down to do laundry.” Jaehyun’s grandma gestures to the small basket of clothes by the door.

“Wait, grandma, can you wash this for me?” He fished out your handkerchief out of his pocket and jogged over to her, “Someone lent it to me earlier and I forgot to give it back, so I wanted to wash it before I run into her again.”

She took the cloth from him and tossed it into the basket, “Alright. I’ll be back later. You two enjoy now.”

“See you, Mrs. Choi!” Mark waved his hand and Jaehyun bit his tongue to stop from laughing; his friend seemingly reverts back into a child every time he interacts with his grandma, but then again, his grandma is known to be endearing and fond towards all his friends.

When his grandma took her leave, Mark eyed him suspiciously, a sly smirk on his face.

“What?”

The younger of the two narrowed his eyes, “You were with a girl before I came over?”

Jaehyun knew where this was going. He shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah. Met her the other day when I checked the rooftop. She’s… eccentric.”

“So she’s weird?”

He instinctively scowled at him, “In a good way. I caught her staring up at the moon.”

“Bro, that’s creepy, you met her at night on the roof? She could have been a ghost.”

With every fiber of his being, Jaehyun fought the urge to roll his eyes, “I don’t believe in ghosts, and no, I was checking out the roof remember? Why would I do that at night? I met her during daytime.”

Mark pursed his lips, “But the moon is also out?”

“It happens. Apparently, it’s a pretty common phenomenon for the moon to appear even if the sun is out.” He lifted a spoon to his lips to taste the sauce and nodded his head in approval, “Hey, grab me two bowls?”

“Is she hot?” Mark jumped up to his feet and went straight for the cupboard to grab two bowls as requested. He set it by the noodles and began to fill both up.

“She’s pretty.” Jaehyun paused; that seemed like an understatement if he were to be honest, but he doesn’t want to give his friend any ideas. “If you keep helping me up on the rooftop, you could meet her.”

“Ayy,” He held his hands up and stepped away from the bowls while Jaehyun poured the soup on them, “You’re just tryna get me to do free labor for you.”

He laughed, nodding his head because he got caught. After pouring the soup into both bowls, Jaehyun arranges the toppings on each of them, “But is it really free labor if you get to eat good food afterwards?”

Mark threw his head back and groaned, “Stop baiting me with food! I’ll get fat before grad pics are taken.”

“You can’t get fat on Korean food. Not with the recipes I make. Besides, once I get the garden thriving, it’ll be a lot healthier.” Jaehyun huffed, “Also, I only need help setting up; make plant boxes, arrange some pots. I’m not asking you to plant, water, or harvest — although I won’t decline if you want to.”

“Fine. Just because you make Michelin star quality food—”

“— have you ever even eaten at a Michelin star restaurant?”

Mark tsk’d at him, “I also wanna meet this girl. You haven’t dated anyone ever since—”

“I’m not looking to date anyone.” He cut him off, handing him chopsticks. “And I still don’t plan to.”

They took their bowls to the small round dining table and sat down. Mark thanked him for the meal and they started to eat. The loud slurp and satisfied moan from Mark brought a smile to Jaehyun’s face. Those kinds of reactions are what drives him to cook even more and he hopes he’ll be hearing them reverbing off the walls of his very own bistro.

As Mark took a bite out of the watermelon Jaehyun used to garnish, he asked, “I can’t wait for you to start your own resto, man. I’ll be there every week — dine in, take out — I’ll have it delivered, too. I’d take my girlfriend to your restaurant for dates.”

This made Jaehyun burst out laughing, “You need a girlfriend to do that, Mark.”

“Shut up! I’m tryna hype you up!” He snarled, “It’s not like you’re opening your restaurant tomorrow, are you?!”

“Point taken.” He shrugged, picking up a hefty amount of noodles with his chopsticks and shoving it into his mouth.

It’s the perfect meal after working hard under the sun; cold and refreshing. He didn’t like eating them at first, finding it weird to eat something he’s accustomed to eating hot now ice cold. Eventually, the dish grew on him, especially on summer days he spent with his grandparents.

For the rest of the meal, they filled the silence with slurping and talked about his plans for the restaurant. Somehow, he ended up giving Mark a part time job in the restaurant that’s yet to be established as either a busboy or a waiter in case he doesn’t find a job yet.

“So worth it.” Mark sighed after he brought the bowl to his lips and threw back his head to finish the soup. “Damn, fine, I will work to eat this kind of food everyday. I should have taken a pic and sent it to Johnny! He’d be so jealous.”

“You can take a picture of my grandma’s bowl if you’re sticking around long enough for her to come back.” Jaehyun suggested, gesturing him to hand his empty bowl over so he could put them away.

“Thanks for the meal.” Mark clapped after pushing his bowl towards him. “Bro, I’m so excited for you! Your resto is gonna pop off, no doubt. And because of you, Johnny’s gonna come back home to handle the business shit.”

Johnny promised to save up to help him with the lease and other financials so he’d been working two jobs in a completely different state to match up the savings Jaehyun had from all the jobs he had previously worked. Jaehyun could easily pay off most of the things needed, but Johnny reiterated that this is a joint business and he won’t let him do so. Even though they both graduated with a degree in business management, Johnny said he’ll take care of all the paperwork while Jaehyun can cook his heart out.

Jaehyun will always be grateful he ran into Johnny during the first class of their freshman year and clicked with him because they shared the same ethnicity, more so that he supports him with everything he does. Admittedly, he’s sad that his best friend had to work so far away from them, but he’ll be home soon and help achieve his dream, plus he had Mark as the best hype man. With no pun intended, he can taste the future.

It’s been nearly a week and Jaehyun hasn’t seen you. He’s worried for some reason; did something happen? Are you alright? He always brought your handkerchief with him so he could return it and some food he made for you to try, but you never showed up. Even Mark doubted your existence when he kept coming over to help build the plant boxes that were finally delivered.

They were just finishing up, deciding where to place the plant boxes with trellises — whether up against the parapet or with the rest of the plant boxes in the middle — when he had the urge to look back at the door and found you watching them through the door.

“[Y/N]!” He exclaimed, face breaking out into a tired smile, only for it to fall when you ran away just before Mark turned around. “Hey, wait!”

Jaehyun tried to run after you, taking large strides, but like last time, when he leaned over the banister to find you, you were gone. He called out to you, but all he saw peeking up the stairs was a scruffy-looking man from four floors down. Jaehyun apologized and the man retreated. He returned to Mark, who decided to move one of the ceramic pots to the other side of where they were originally placed.

“Did you catch her?” He asked, dusting his hands off.

“No. I wonder why she ran off like that. I didn’t even catch her running down the stairs… maybe she lives just on the floor below.” Jaehyun frowned, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He was sure it was you; you were wearing the same denim overalls.

Mark’s phone rang and he cursed at seeing the notification, “Gotta go. I forgot I had to pick up groceries for my mom.”

“Thanks for today. Tell her I said hi.” He waved as he watched the younger man run to the door as if his life depended on it.

Alone, Jaehyun turned back to check the work they’ve done today. Aside from the trellis, all the plant boxes had been laid with all the proper layers for drainage and just needed to be sowed. He wanted to plant everything all at the same time, but he could plant the Four o’Clock seeds you requested. He had already soaked the seeds overnight and even sanded it according to the google searches he made to plant and care for them. He walked over to the collapsible table he set up and took the flower seeds off the paper towel he left them on.

“You’ve started planting?”

Jaehyun jumped away from you, flinching at your sudden appearance.

“Oops,” You giggled, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You have light footsteps, huh? I’m only planting the Four o’Clocks today.” He showed you the seeds in his palm, “Why did you run off a while ago?”

You blinked at him, “Uhm, well, I thought I left the iron plugged in a-and I didn’t want to bother you and your friend.”

“We were done anyways and you wouldn’t be a bother if you decided to come up here. He wanted to meet you, you know.”

“Oh… I’m… just extremely shy. You just caught me off guard the day we met.” You squat beside him as he sowed the seeds into one of the little ceramic pots, “I would have run off if I had the chance.”

Jaehyun chuckled, “Well, I’m glad you didn’t.”

This made you pause, repeatedly blinking at his hands as they gently folded the soil over the seeds. The other day, you would never admit to it, but you were secretly watching him and his friend — Mark, as you heard him call the other — and you were astonished at how strong Jaehyun was. Compared to his friend, he pulled and carried materials on his shoulders with ease. It was a stark contrast to how he planted the seeds just now.

“I believe I owe you a short narrative of my life.” You cleared your throat, looking for somewhere to sit on, and walked over to two collapsible chairs that matched the table. You sat on one while you waited for Jaehyun to dust his hands clean.

Once he sat down, you shrugged, “What do you want to know?”

“Anything you’re comfortable with sharing.” He mirrored your action, “I would have brought extra snacks if I had known I’d be running into you again. Oh, shit — I forgot your handkerchief back in my room.”

“It’s fine.” You shook your head, “I’m in no rush to get it back.”

You let yourself get distracted by a cat’s loud meowing somewhere below, thinking of something to share to him.

“Well,” You started off, “I was supposed to start my Master’s degree for education 3 months ago, but I chickened out the last minute. I just felt like… it’s not something I want to do at the moment.”

“So what have you been doing? Painting?” Jaehyun gestured to the paint marks on your clothing, “Your clothes always have paint on them.”

You stuttered, “Oh, uhm, yeah — just getting the creative juice flowing. Never liked anything to keep it, though. I think I’m more into photography.”

“Like portraits? Landscapes?”

“Anything.” You paused, “Haven’t really found a niche yet. That’s why I’ve been painting.”

He nodded, understanding your situation. “Hey, there’s this mural on the other side of that wall—”

“Yeah, I know. It’s such an eyesore.”

Jaehyun blinked at you, “Oh, I don’t think so. It’s just unfinished. Maybe the person who started it moved out or maybe they just lost motivation. But I think it still looks great; just unfinished.”

Unfinished, you repeated in your thoughts. It’s such a sad word for you; incomplete, undone.

“You could paint over the mural if you think it could be better.”

The mural was yours to begin with. You started it half a year ago when you went up here to escape reality. It was just a mess of angry, distressed brush strokes of a multitude of colors overlapping one another; what made it look incomplete in the first place? You just kept adding layer after layer, never satisfied with how it looked.

“Maybe.” You croaked out, realizing you hadn’t responded to him. “I’d need to buy all the paint though, so I can’t work on it immediately.”

“No rush. You can’t force art.” He said in a comforting manner. “I didn’t learn to cook right away. My grandma has unlimited patience with me every time I burnt something.”

“I wish my older sister had the same patience as your grandma.” You fiddled with your thumbs, “I live with her — uh, well, technically, she lives with me… with her boyfriend and baby.”

Jaehyun gave you an awkward smile, “They live with you?”

You shut your eyes, hanging your head low, “I love my sister and I love little nephew, too. But her boyfriend is a piece of shit. Absolutely useless. Doesn’t even consider moving since he considers me free housing even though he can afford it. He doesn’t even help pay rent!”

“So it’s that kind of situation, huh? Your sister must love him for staying with him.”

You averted your attention elsewhere, biting down on your lip with guilt. She’s still with him because of you, she wants to leave him but she can’t because of you. It’s not your place to tell Jaehyun about the real cruelty your sister’s boyfriend does to her, not to mention he’s a shitty father to your nephew, but you don’t want to drag him into this mess.

“I wish she’d wake up.” You grumbled. You wished you would wake up, too.

“If there’s anyway for me to help, just tell me.” Jaehyun put his hand over yours, the sensation of his skin against yours still confounding you.

You met his gaze, reading the sincerity in the dark chocolate pools of his eyes. You barely know him, but why does it feel like you’ve known him all your life? “Thank you.” You whispered and you watched him retrieve his hand.

“Whatever happens, you can also escape to my place. My grandma loves to meet new people. I’m sure she’ll love you. I can introduce you to Korean food, too. Are you okay with spices?”

“It really depends.” You bashfully admitted, hoping it doesn’t sound like you were turning his offer down.

“Well, if you come over, we’ll see it ourselves.” He beamed at you, dimples flashing in full display. “I live in room 307.”

This caught you off guard. You lived on the same floor as him. Why haven’t you noticed?

When you didn’t say anything after him, even though he had hoped you would reply with your room number, Jaehyun smacked his thighs. He doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable for disclosing your room number to him. “I have to start cooking dinner. Are you going to stay longer here?”

“Uh—” You followed his movement as he stood up, “Y-yeah, I will.”

“See you later. Don’t stay for too long. It gets cold up here.”

“I’ll be fine.” You smiled, waving at him as he slowly inched towards the door.

After he left, you stared at the door a little longer before looking down at your hands. You could stay for as long as you want because the cold doesn’t bother you. You can’t feel the cold or the heat or anything… aside from him.

It was a little alarming to Jaehyun that you hadn’t been up on the roof for two weeks. Yes, he counted the days. Did something happen with your sister and her boyfriend? Did you two finally escape him? Did he do something bad? Are you safe? So many questions plagued his mind but he doesn’t know what to do to get answers to them. Mark is no help because he has to see you with his own eyes to even believe you were real.

After your last talk, Jaehyun had made it a point to bring your handkerchief with him so he can finally return it to you. He even washed it again despite not using it just in case the sweat from working under the sun seeped through his pants.

It was a shame though because he’s proud of the progress of his little rooftop garden. All the plant boxes have been sowed with their respective seeds, he purchased a picnic set so he could have meals up here with friends and family, and most importantly, the 4 o’clocks have started to germinate along with the sweet peas that he decided to plant as well. His grandma liked to take afternoon tea up here as well, hoping to meet you after he had spoken often about you, but fortunately doesn’t doubt your existence just because of your absence like Mark.

Jaehyun didn’t have much work to do these days aside from watering and making sure there were no pests since the materials he needed for the pergola hadn't arrived yet. It was a good thing the past days were cloudy enough for his grandma to rely on just sunscreen and not tire herself from holding an umbrella.

Another day is about to end, the sun setting across the horizon. Even Jaehyun hadn’t seen the daytime moon the past week — or maybe he just didn’t bother to check during the prime hour when it’s clearly visible. Heaving a dejected sigh, he goes back to his apartment. He should have really asked for your number — to, you know, check up on you.

Arriving on his floor, he took his time to walk up to his door, briefly glancing when he heard a door open. He didn’t pay much attention to it at first, but did a double take when he saw you.

“[Y/N]?” He exclaims, a little too excitedly, and took three long strides towards the woman he thought was you.

She turned to face him, alarmed and confused.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone I knew.” Jaehyun stepped back, sheepishly rubbing his neck. He bows his head out of habit, “Sorry again—”

When he looked back up at the woman, he faltered. She really did look like you.

“Wait, I’m sorry, but are you…” He licked his lips, “[Y/N]’s sister?”

The woman watched him apprehensively as she closed the door but kept her hand on the knob, “I am. And you are?”

“I’m Jaehyun. I moved here just a month ago. I was wondering where [Y/N] is. I haven’t seen her in awhile. Is she okay?”

She looked at him like he had grown two heads. “I don’t understand.”

“Uhm, well, we met up on the rooftop and she’d drop by every now and then. It’s been awhile since she went back up so I got a little worried—”

“Look, boy,” Your sister dismissed, “You’re not making sense to me and I’m busy. You’re wasting my time.”

Jaehyun bit his tongue; did something happen between the two of you? “Okay, I’m sorry again. But could you return this for me? She lent it to me a few weeks ago and I keep forgetting to return it.”

He brought out your blue handkerchief from his back pocket and your sister’s eyes grew wide with alarm. She snatched it from him, making him flinch, and inspected it, revealing the little embroidery of your initials on the corner he had never seen before.

“Where did you get this?!” She hissed, vigorously shaking the fabric in her fist. “I kept this in her drawer!”

“I-I told you! She lent it to me a few weeks ago and—”

“That’s impossible! She couldn’t have!” Your sister’s eyes started to well up, “I don’t understand— she couldn’t have— but how?”

Jaehyun ogled her warily as she examined the handkerchief once more, “I… I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m telling you the truth. She lent it to me herself.”

He described you to her to prove himself; from your hair, to your clothes, to even the reason why you were up on the roof the first time he met you, and that’s what caught your sister’s attention.

“Daytime moon?” She quietly repeated, cutting him off. “Di-did you say she was up on the roof, looking at the daytime moon?”

He nodded, gasping a little when she faltered back and lost her balance, making him reach out to help her stand up properly.

“That can’t be… my sister… [Y/N]... she’s… it’s been three months...”

“What?” Panic gripped at his chest. Three months? He hasn’t even moved in three months ago. “What happened with [Y/N]?”

Your sister looked up at him, visibly perplexed at the situation. Her pupils shook as she stared right at him.

“My sister has been in a coma for three months.”

Chapter 2 by @smileyjaeminies

​cc: @moonttaeil​ @wonjaekook​ @lovestrucked-again​

[jetaime-jespere]

Prompt #145

Rated M! 

#145: “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “Because you’re wearing two different shoes.”

The first time it happens, they’re on a case in Gettysburg in the midst of a chilly November the week before Thanksgiving. They get called to a new crime scene in the middle of the night because another body shows up on the battlefield, giving a total count of four murdered college students. It’s after 2 before they can think about leaving, and close to 3 when they begin the thirty minute drive back to the hotel, an almost eerie silence settling in. Gettysburg is beautiful, especially in the fall, but at night it gives her the creeps, thanks to Reid reminding them all it’s one of the most haunted places in Pennsylvania.

Aaron is driving, his eyes flicking between the road and Emily at his side in the passenger seat. She feels his gaze in seventy-second increments that are meant to be discreet, and yet are anything but. There’s chemistry there, something they’ve never acknowledged but never completely denied, either. And in the stillness, without any distractions, it’s undeniable.

“Something on your mind?” she finally asks, wondering just what goes through his head because even after all this time she can’t always figure him out. Aaron’s response is more of a grunt, and Emily isn’t quite certain she even heard one at all. “Care to share?” They are, after all, stuck together for the time being.

This seventy-second increment only lasts forty before Aaron’s eyes are on her again. His voice is low and gravelly, a dangerous mix of steely calm, he says, “Sometimes, I think about what it would be like to fuck you.”

She’s almost surprised.

There’s a familiar flutter in her stomach, an ache between her legs she can’t ignore at his revelation, a thought that mirrors her own from time to time. She gets a touch of satisfaction when his knuckles whiten around the steering wheel, and she has about fifteen seconds to consider a response. “Then pull over,” Emily breathes before she can think too much about it, and her heart nearly beats right out of her chest when he actually veers to the right, the car coming to a full stop along the side of a road.

It’s hurried and frantic; there’s nothing careful about the way her teeth scrape against his jaw or the way he all but tears off the button of her pants, his fingers curving inside of her so perfectly. Emily chokes on air as his thumb hits her clit, the moan that escapes her throat reverberates through the car and he shushes her by wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and pulling her in to cover her lips with his own. The front seat of the car is unforgiving to say the least. Her legs bend at an impossible angle as she sinks down on him; her head falling back when she’s fully seated, her body stretching to accommodate him in a way that makes breathing a concentrated effort. Aaron lifts a hand to her back, pushing her shirt up just enough to touch her spine as her hips rock, curling the other hand around her upper thigh to guide her movements.

It’s breathless, almost desperate, and such a bad idea. But it’s over soon, as quickly as it starts, and the sound of the whimper that punctuates the air as she comes dies on her lips.  “This can’t happen again,” Aaron grunts moments after he finishes, still twitching inside of her as she catches her breath, his hand broad and flat across her bare back.

“You’re right.” Emily is quick to agree, because nothing good can possibly come from this happening again. “It can’t.”

It’s supposed to be a one time thing, never to be spoken of again, but they know better than this. Both of them are completely aware of the complications that could (will) arise if it continues. And yet, it’s solidified in their minds, a fire they can’t help but burn. As they expected, (but would never admit) it quickly becomes more than that, then something else entirely.

...

The second time is in December, in the midst of the holiday season rush. It’s stupid, risky, and worth every second. Aaron is in his office late, wrapping Jack’s Christmas gifts, fumbling with the wrapping paper and ribbons on the floor. It’s his fourth attempt, and soon he’s going to run out of the good tape. The paper is always too long, the ribbon is too short, and he’s been at it for over an hour when a subtle cough makes his head snap up in surprise.

Emily stands in the doorway, a thick folder in her hands. She surveys the scene, eyes widening at the implications of what he’s doing, and why he’s doing it here of all places. It’s not his first Christmas as a single father, but there are some things that never get easier. Wrapping gifts is one of them, the reminder that there are some things he has to go at alone.

“You’re using too much paper,” she says gently, tossing the folder on the couch and closing the door behind her. “And not enough tape.”

He must look pathetic, because her face softens even more as she sits down beside him, cross legged on the floor. “Let me.”  

He relents, grateful for the help, and Aaron can’t help but watch the way her fingers move, the tendons in her fine-boned hands neatly folding and precisely cutting, until the contents of Jack’s new lego set is neatly concealed behind Toy story wrapping paper.

“Wrapping your own gifts, I take it?” Emily quips, handing him the perfectly done box.

“Something like that,” Aaron drawls. And damn it, he can’t help himself from cupping her face in his hand, his fingers tightening just enough around her jaw to make her scoot a few inches closer to him. “Thank you,” he says, pushing a piece of hair from her face, pressing his lips to hers before he can think twice.

And that’s how they end up on his desk, Emily’s back flat against the heavy mahogany oak, her head cushioned by his suit jacket and his button down shirt. She smells like pine needles and peppermint, his face buried in her shoulder, her legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusts into her relentlessly. This time they come together, wrapped around each other in his fucking office, and she’s almost ashamed of herself for giving in so easily. It can only get worse from here.

“This can’t happen again,” Emily tells him, her voice still thick with lust, an arm around his neck to keep him close for just a few more moments. By now the sun has set, the sky is dark, and soon enough the night custodians will start their rounds. “I should go,” she adds for good measure, shifting beneath him impatiently.

“RIght,” Aaron nods stiffly, pulling out of her carefully and noting the way her hips stutter at the loss of him. Nothing good can possibly come of this, he thinks with regret, a thumb brushing over the soft skin of her lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says with an air that sounds final, like the closing of a door not to be opened again.

But it’s only a matter of time.

It happens again, like they know it would, eight weeks later in February. Except this time, it’s nothing like the first or second. Aaron shows up at her door with a bag of takeout under his arm after he gets off the phone with the Italian Consulate yet again that night. The priest, Father Silvano will be extradited back to Italy to stand trial, but the damage is already done. It’s been a hellish few days, it hasn’t stopped storming and now the rain has turned to snow, the flakes dusting over his shoulders as he raps his knuckles three times.

Aaron doesn’t even know if she’ll be there - he all but reamed out Dave for not driving her back home earlier that night instead leaving her to walk in the snow. She needed space, was Dave’s argument, and Aaron half considers going back to look for her if she doesn’t answer.

But Emily opens the door, wearing a sweatshirt that has seen better days, her damp hair starting to frizz at the ends. Her eyes are red; it doesn’t take an idiot to know she’s been crying. There are tear stains on her cheeks he pretends not to see, and instead offers an awkward smile.

“What are you doing here?” She questions, not out of anger but mild surprise, not missing the bag in his hands. “You … you didn’t have to do that.”

“Thought you’d appreciate a free dinner.” He shifts the bag to the other arm, the scent of Italian wafting around them. Only then does he recognize the irony of his choice of cuisine, and hopes she doesn’t make the ill-timed connection. But of course she does.

“Really, Aaron? Italian. Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?”

“Poor planning on my end,” he manages, looking slightly regretful. “For what it’s worth, the pasta is good.”

“And the company?” She lifts an eyebrow and studies him carefully. “Does that come with the free dinner?”

“Added bonus,” Aaron quips. “Unless you want me to leave the food and go.”

Against her better judgement, Emily laughs softly and holds the door open, meeting his concerned eyes for a brief moment as she lets him slide past her. He’s been to her apartment only once before, in a desperate attempt to get her back on their team, but he correctly guesses the cabinet with plates on his first try. If she has reservations about any of this she doesn’t show it, and simply sinks onto the couch as he brings her a plate, settling beside her with his own.

They sit on opposite ends of her couch with plates in their laps, making light small talk about everything but the situations staring them right in the face - the one from before, and one they’ve been tap dancing around for several months. He has questions yet she owes him nothing; just because they fucked a few times doesn’t give him the right to her secrets. She’s always kept things close to the vest. He knows there are things that lie beyond the carefully curated facade she’d initially presented when she started on the team. This is very much one of those things.

Emily sees right through this, and yet, she still can’t help but question his intentions. “Why are you really here, Aaron?”

“I was worried,” he tells her after a long pause. “And,” he says, choosing his words carefully. “I owe you an apology.”

His admission, along with his vulnerability breaks a wall that went up that first night in Gettysburg in November a few months prior. It’s how he learns one of her most guarded truths, told with careful delineation of facts from emotions, and the gap between them closes with each layer that peels away from her. It’s clear she’s lived with it for a long time, maybe not fully processed it, but it’s part of her and she holds no shame. Emily keeps her chin high as she tells him, her fingers twisting the hem of her sweatshirt, her legs curled to her chest.

Aaron spends the night, not because she asks but she doesn’t have to. Emily falls asleep on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder, his hand on her knee. He doesn’t have the heart to wake her so instead he carries her to her room, making sure she’s fully covered with the layers of blankets before settling beside her.

The morning after is the third time. Emily awakens in his arms, her back against his chest, an arm tucked around her waist. “You stayed,” is all she says before she pushes him onto his back and pulls her shirt from her body, swinging a leg over his hip.

Hell of a way to wake up, he thinks as his hands slide up to her waist. It’s the most normal of encounters they’ve had, and that’s saying something given the circumstances of how he got there in the first place.

...

The days multiply into a familiar pattern of here and there. He comes to her place more often than she goes to his - it feels invasive to be there. He’s a father first, and somewhere in the boundaries of what they are and aren’t, dragging Jack into things still doesn’t feel right. But it’s becoming harder and harder to hide the fact that this extends beyond casual.

As she sleeps soundly beside him, he makes the decision that tomorrow will be the day they have the conversation that is so desperately needed. He hardly sleeps a wink, tossing and turning into the early hours of the morning.

“We need to talk,” Aaron says mere hours later, in a tone that carries more weight than just the excuse of not enough sleep or something equally unconvincing. “About … this.” The flick of his hand between them tells her exactly what he means. “About us,” he adds, albeit unnecessarily.

“Are you okay?” Emily stares at him from over her coffee mug, an amused smirk twisting on her face. He’s nervous, as she anticipated he would be, yet it’s still endearing, and she lifts the mug to her lips to hide the grin that’s spreading across her face. “You probably shouldn’t leave the house like that, you know.”

“Why do you ask?” He fixes his tie with a slightly shaking hand, wondering just how she can be so cavalier about all of this. He isn’t sure when or how his feelings got to this point, but something about all of this feels so final, as if he might scare her away. “I’m fine.”

Emily breaks into a fit of laughter, choking on her coffee as it sprays halfway across the room. She points to his feet, still coughing and sputtering. “Because you’re wearing two different shoes.”

Aaron blinks, and follows to where she’s pointing, seeing that she’s entirely correct. In his moments of utter distraction, he’d put on two different shoes, two completely different colors and styles. But that’s the least of his concerns as the words he’s been meaning to tell her for months now fall from his lips, completely unchecked.

Only after he changes his shoes, and double checks them in the mirror, she gives him a shy yet brilliant smile, coupled with a nod of her head and a resounding yes falling from her lips.

[six-of-brides]

Wretched And Divine: FEAR Transmission 1: Stay Close

Co-writer: @x0-emoidiot-x0​

Person we reached out to for help (I have no idea what else to call them) @anxiousreject​

Heather

As I creep silently between the tall stone buildings of the FEAR headquarters, I try to be as quiet as possible. I can pretend to be here for other reasons, but if they knew my true intentions, they’d be after me for sure. There would be no chance of survival.

I hope my kin made it out after running away... Did they find someplace safe? Did someone take them in? Someone who is on our side? Someone who can help them stay safe? There’s no guarantee I’ll be able to tell without seeing it myself. Right now, I do not have time for that. I have a mission, and I’ll worry about them after. I’m already on a tight schedule, and I can’t figure out where they are right now. Right now, worrying is time I don’t have. All I can do now, is hope and pray they’re safe.

“Can I help you, miss?”

I freeze in my tracks.

Play it cool, Heather

“Yes, actually. I need to know where the army is. I have some information on the Wild Ones. I need to get that into their database.”

traitor, traitor, traitor I think to myself.

No, that’s not true. Think of your goal. Find the army’s whereabouts. Get the information to Prophet. Don’t get caught

“Do you know anyone that works with the rebels?”

“No.”

Of course you do. Your husband is probably off wreaking havoc on their forces

“Do you work with the Wild Ones?”

I mock offense. I think I took a cue from my daughter.

Good lord, I miss her.

“How dare you say such blasphemy! Of course I do not work with those traitors!”

You don’t know if he’s alive. For all you know, he died in a hole underground the minute you turned your back on him.

I guess that’s a lie. I do take information to them so they know what to do. Tonight, I’ll try and get some answers. I’ll ask the Wild Ones what they know about the location of my husband and daughter at the moment. I just hope they know something. They might know about Abigail, but you’re never supposed to give your real name as an adult, they probably won’t know anything else. 

“Wherever Abigail is, my husband is never too far away.” I remind myself.

I’m a spy, I don’t pretend to join the side of FEAR. As far as my parents are concerned, I’m asleep right now, when I’m actually out past curfew stealing information.

If only you could see your little girl now

Suddenly, I hear a voice over an intercom, meant so only the others working here can hear it, I know from the last few times I’ve been here. I get out a pad of paper that I find lying around. This will tell me their next plan of action, I can get it out to the Wild Ones, let them know what they need to do next. I listen closely and prepare to take in the next words I’m about to hear.

“We expect a battle for humanity is about to begin. With each uprising, a fake sense of safety will ignite in you, an unseen shadow will slip from doubt towards those who protect you and defend you. But the thoughts slip away, and remain calm. Stay close to FEAR. Only we can protect.”

The information on this loudspeaker is all bullshit meant to keep the soldiers of FEAR in check, so they don’t question their positions. This is their only way of knowing what they’re going to do. 

They expect a rebel attack soon, they could be ready for anything. They don’t say anything about moving into what they suspect is rebel occupied territory, but they are talking about the battle in general. This means they most likely expect an attack on their end, so they are prepared to defend.

I have to get this information out to The Prophet. A lot of running, even more quiet. I can’t be seen or heard by anyone. Once again, if I get caught, I get killed. 

“Ah, Heather. Thought I’d find you here.”

Are there more people up this time of night?

“Why are you here?” It comes out more sharply than I intended.

His horns bang on the door. I restrain the laugh.

He looks at my arm. The ink is showing.

His mask prevents any emotion coming out of his face, but I can still feel the disappointment.

“Still haven’t gotten that removed.”

“I don’t feel the need.”

“You know tattoos are a surefire ticket to hell.”

Pretty sure the Bible was referring to pagan symbols, but okay. I guess.

He goes, and I can finally breathe easily.

I get the file I need. It lists all the supplies at FEAR’s disposal for battles. Quietly putting it in my coat, I sneak out.

I start walking quietly through the hallways and corridors of the main building before I sneak out the door and through the gates. From there, I start walking back in-between the buildings. I need to be extra quiet here, because the guards always patrol these areas, looking for people like me.

I see one walking in my direction, and I instantly duck into the shadows. They can’t see me here, or at least, I don’t think so. The guard keeps walking this way and looks into the shadow. My heart is beating hard, so loudly that it’s the only thing I can hear. This calms down when the guard turns away and keeps walking.

“Are the supplies here?” He says to someone else I can’t see. I scramble for my paper.

“Yep. We got ‘Em good the last time. Thanks to Deviant. Then we knocked him out and killed the bastard.”

knew he was no good, that traitor. Glad he’s gone

“We can’t let them get away. They’re planning something. I can feel it.”

“We should go there now.”

The guard shakes his head. “We only have slightly more soldiers than they do. We need to wait.”

“I desperately want them in Hell now.”

“So do I. But if we go now, we won’t accomplish doing God’s work in getting rid of these Heathens.”

When the guard is finally out of sight, I walk away and keep walking until I get closer to the outskirts of the city. At this point, I just start running. I don’t need to be quiet anymore, but I do need to be fast. This information needs to get to them as quickly as possible, so they can plan their next steps carefully with as much time as they can get.

The roads begin to fade into vast amounts of sand. Nothing but sand and dirt now. Definitely getting more out into the desert. I run faster until I run out of breath. When I stop to take a breath, I look up and see the rebel camp in front of me. I’m getting closer. I keep running until I reach Prophet’s tent, the largest one around.

I walk in and see him staring into space. Somehow, his lipstick has been unaffected by the sand.

“Prophet.”

He quickly jumps up and grabs a knife before he notices it’s me.

“Oh, thank God. It’s just you.”

“I’m just as scared.”

“I’m not frightened.”

lies

“FEAR isn’t planning an attack, but they’re prepared for us to attack them. You don’t have to prepare for their immediate presence, but you need to prepare for what may come from attacking them. And here..” I hand over the file to him “is a record of what they have. You actually have an advantage on recourses in a few areas.”

He looks as if he may now be scheming a plan for their next battle. I hope everything goes well for them, they’re our biggest hope to defeat FEAR.

“Also, on a side note. Your makeup game is on point.”

Thank you.” He blushes. He actually blushes.

I guess he’s not used to it.

“I still remember everyone’s comments.”

There’s a pause of silence.

“People suck.”

“I know.” He says.

Another pause.

“Anyway, thanks again.”

I decide to ask him about my husband and daughter.

“Hey, um..can I ask you a favor?”

He closes the file and looks up at me.

“Sure. What is it?”

“I need you to find someone. Black hair that’s shaved on one side, narrow face, blue eyes..”

“Savior’s with us.” Prophet grins. “Abigail looks like her father.”

“She does.” My smile grows bigger.

I go through the information in my head.

They’re here, fighting alongside them. My husband has taken on a new name, he goes by Savior, Abigail kept her real name. I breathe a sigh of relief. 

“You can see them, if you want. I don’t think there’s anything Savior wants more than to see you.”

It’s so tempting. Even a week apart is unbearable. But I can’t.

I wish I had time to talk more, but I have to hurry back. I have a bigger chance of being caught in the day, and my parents will at least get suspicious if they find that I’m not home.

I start running again until I get back into the city. I don’t have to be as sneaky, but still have to be quiet. There are still people willing to report me for being out so late. I keep walking, ignoring the pain in my feet from doing so much walking and running until I get back home.

When I reach the house, I decide to sneak in through my bedroom window. I’ll wake someone up if I sneak in through the door instead. I get inside, close the window, and check the time. Two-fourty-five. About four hours until the sun comes up. That leaves me with plenty of time to rest.

I can do less worrying about where they are, but now I’m worried about what’s going to happen to them during battles. Abigail’s just a kid, they probably wouldn’t have her fighting, but now that they have “Savior” as a soldier, he could get hurt easily. I don’t know if he’s just a normal soldier, though. After all, he does have those powers. New ones, even. That would put him in a higher position than before, greater risk of being captured.

Then my thoughts get the best of me.

The FEAR officials have always wanted to get their hands on one of the Wild Ones’ higher-ups. They want Prophet because he’s the leader, but they claim that any one of them would work. I‘m even more worried about what could happen to them. Well, I can rest easy knowing that they’re alive and with someone trustworthy…

[xbaepsae]

the ebb and flow | part five

“You wonder what goes on in that head of his—why he’s always popping up out of nowhere and causing your life to become just a tad unbalanced.”

[demigod!jeongguk x demigod!reader]

genre: percy jackson!au, mythology!au, demigod!au, enemies to lovers!au, action

word count: 2.3k

rating: pg-13

warnings: flaming arrows lol, some mentions of fighting (typical camp half-blood stuff, you know), the usual character bickering and tension

a/n: omg sorry this chapter took me two extra days to write lol. idk why it was so difficult. anyway, thanks for all the love for son of poseidon jk and daughter of athena reader :) i love them so much too. xoxo

→ series masterlist!

the second summer – in which it all begins

Mid-summer in Long Island is always hot, and it doesn’t make outside activities any better. Or more bearable. From your cabin, you stare out of a window at the almost noon sun and sigh—you are surely going to turn into burnt toast today.

“Going back to archery class today?”

You turn towards the voice. “Unfortunately.”

“Archery isn’t that bad,” Namjoon laughs.

“It is when you’re kind of bad at it,” you say, to which he doesn’t have a reply.

In your defense, you just picked up archery recently. It’s no longer something that’s a necessary skill to have—especially since you’re better at other things—so you didn’t bother taking the lessons with Chiron last year. Also, at the time, the flaming arrows terrified you anyway. However, now, you figured that you should try and master every skill offered here.

What you didn’t account for was having zero skill in the art of archery. And it’s frustrating, to say the least.

“I’m sure you’ll get better with time,” Namjoon finally says.

“I hope so.”

While Namjoon goes off to climb walls with satyrs, you go off to meet Chiron at the targets. When you arrive, there are already a few other campers armed with their bows. You settle beside Jung Hoseok, hoping that some of his natural skills in archery will rub off on you.

“Hey, y/n!” Hoseok’s enthusiastic as ever.

You offer him a half-smile. “Hey.”

“Excited?” he asks. “I think Chiron’s going to bust out the flaming arrows today.”

You gulp at the mention of fire. Even though you’re not scared of flaming arrows anymore—at least, the idea of them—you’re still a little nervous about actually having to hit the targets with one. “Um, cool?”

“It’s super easy, watch.”

As Chiron’s voice booms over everyone, you do as Hoseok says and watch as an arrow is doused in lighter fuel. Chiron fastens the arrow through his bow before he lights in on fire and hits a bullseye. Your mouth drops at how quick everything happens, shocked at how a flaming arrow seems much faster than a normal one.

The fire is quickly put out, probably to save the target from becoming fully disintegrated, and Chiron calls, “Okay, heroes, line-up behind one another.”

Since there are six targets, the group divides amongst each one. Hoseok immediately rushes into the front of the last target to be first, while you move to stand a few people behind him. You twist your head out of the line to watch as the son of Apollo confidently readies his bow and shoots his flaming arrow in a perfect bullseye. After a quick praise from Chiron, he moves off to the side so another camper can begin.

“Hoseok’s pretty good, huh?”

You jump at the sudden voice. Turning around, you spot Jeon Jeongguk inches away from you. “Oh my gods, what are you doing?”

“Here for archery practice, duh,” he says easily, but you don’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes.

Last year, when you both arrived at camp for the first time, Jeongguk was relatively quiet and kept mostly to himself. Although, as time passed, he quickly became more outspoken and comfortable around everyone—a little too comfortable. The shyness was definitely a short-lived phase. You kind of miss it.

Now, he never shuts up and it’s starting to annoy you—especially when he pops up out of nowhere like this and messes with your focus. “You’re not in this class.”

“How would you know? Maybe I just got here late?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. If there’s anything you’ve realized this summer, it’s that Jeongguk is always trying to pick a fight with you. Sometimes, you partake in his antics; however, right now, you’ve really got to focus. “Whatever, Jeon.”

Taking a step away from him, you realize that you’re already next up to shoot an arrow. The other campers are openly staring, which makes you nearly trip over your own feet.

“You’ve got this, y/n,” Chiron says, handing you an arrow.

Taking the arrow from him, you inhale deeply before dipping the tip in the fuel. Slipping the arrow in your bow, your nerves are in a bundle when Chiron lights it on fire and commands you to aim for the yellow center.

Instinct seems to take over as the nock passes through your fingertips. You watch in slow motion as your arrow propels through the air and lands in the red portion of the target. A shocked gasp leaves you lips at how close you got to the center; hitting red is better than what you did yesterday.

“Well done,” Chiron smiles, and you’re so glad he’s so patient with you.

“I’ll do better tomorrow,” you promise, and class is dismissed for the day.

Everyone begins to put their bows away; by the time you manage to do the same, Jeongguk is already long gone.

***

“I knew he wasn’t in archery with me.”

You were on your way to arts and crafts with Hephaestus’s cabin when Haru caught up to you. She asked you about your day in archery yesterday, and when you mentioned Jeongguk she was confused.

“Yeah, he’s in sword fighting with me,” she says.

“So, why was he by the range then?” you ask.

Haru frowns for a moment, before understanding fills her face. “Oh, that’s probably because we were scouting outside the area yesterday.”

“For what?”

“I guess our trainer wants us to get field experience? Outside of the arena. I think he decided on the field beside the archery range,” she explains, and you mutter an oh great. “Don’t worry though, we should be some distance away from you guys.”

Though you’re skeptical about that, you can’t really dwell too much about it because you’re already in front of the forge. You spend your hour in arts and crafts thinking about flaming arrows…and maybe Jeongguk too. But not in a way people might expect you to be thinking about him.

You wonder what goes on in that head of his—why he’s always popping up out of nowhere and causing your life to become just a tad unbalanced. Every time he’s around, you feel strange…like you can’t stand him at all. Jeongguk just makes you uncomfortable and you hate it.

By the time you are walking back to the archery range, he has gotten so deep underneath your skin that you swear you can hear his voice ringing in your ear.

“Why am I going crazy?” you mutter to no one but yourself, simultaneously shaking your head in the process. “What is wrong with—”

“Finally admitting that you’re crazy, miss goody-two-shoes? About time.”

Standing up straighter, you turn around and realize that you aren’t totally imagining things—the devil himself was actually behind you. You can’t help but narrow your eyes at him. “Why are you being so nosy, Jeon?”

“Anyone would’ve been able to hear that remark,” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, moving to walk ahead of you.

“Why did you lie yesterday and say that you were in archery?” you ask, but he doesn’t reply. Instead, he just continues on his merry way, past the targets and towards the adjacent field. You watch as he picks up the pace and begins to jog towards his instructor; you realize that you should probably do the same.

Today, Hoseok is, once again, first up to shoot an arrow. Chiron lets him shoot a few, and each one leaves your mouth hanging open. At this point, you think the son of Apollo is just showing off because every arrow that goes through his bow flawlessly hits a bullseye.

“How do you do that every time?” you ask him once the next person is up.

Hoseok just laughs. “It’s natural, I guess.”

“Wish that were me,” you muse.

“We all have different skill sets, y/n,” he attempts to console you. “I mean, you’re great with battle strategy—which is why Apollo always want to join Athena’s team.”

You conclude that he’s right—everyone is skilled in their own way. Besides, you can get better at archery with time anyway. You continue small talk with Hoseok until Chiron tells you that you’re next up. You drag yourself in front of the target and fasten the arrow through your bow. Staring at the target, you clear your mind of excess thoughts—you want to really focus on hitting the center. With a quick exhale, you propel the arrow through the air.

And it hits the center.

When you realize this, you begin jumping up and down. Chiron laughs through his congratulating remarks, before asking if you’d like another shot. “Of course, I want to do it again!”

Just as you begin to aim your bow and arrow, you hear a commotion to the left. Looking away from the target, you notice that things have gotten pretty hectic on the field where campers are practicing with their swords. Except, you realize that swords aren’t being used much—everyone has adapted to using their own special skills.

Demeter kids are sprouting things from the ground, Apollo kids are playing their lyres, and a certain son of Poseidon is blasting water cannons. For a moment, you wonder how this chaos even ensued; but that thought quickly fades when the commotion starts coming closer. Squash begins sprouting right by the range, but that’s not even the worse of it. A cannon of water comes out of nowhere and drenches your entire body, and you notice that everything seems to go silent after that.

Your camp shirt now hangs heavy on your body, and your sneakers feel disgustingly uncomfortable. Opening your eyes, you notice that everyone is staring at you with shock, but you can only see one person.

“Jeon Jeongguk!” You yell at the boy who only stands a few yards away from you. “You idiot!”

Even from this distance, you can see him struggle for words—a surprising feat since he always seems to have something smart to say. Taking a step closer to him, you aim your arrow for his head; it would be so easy to just knock him out. Jeongguk’s eyes fly wide at your stance; you wonder if he thinks you’re actually going to shoot.

Without even thinking twice, you let the arrow fly. But today seems to be Jeongguk’s lucky day because the arrow misses his head, landing in the tree right beside him. You notice him visibly exhale, but that relief quickly dissipates when his instructor practically pulls him by the ear and looks straight at you. “You, come with us.”

“B-But I didn’t do anything wrong!” You look to Chiron. “Jeongguk shot me with a water cannon—”

“I understand that you were only defending yourself, y/n, but you almost hit Jeongguk with an arrow. You’ll have to talk to Mr. D about this, I’m afraid.”

You can’t help but pout. Dionysus is always in a mood. But you obey anyway and make your way to the Big House. There, you find the god himself conjuring up a glass of wine from sunlight. You stare at the deep burgundy liquid before raising your eyes to the god. “I thought you were still stuck here for another few decades?”

Mr. D turns his gaze to you, lazily rolling his eyes. “Oh, my mistake—I seem to have forgotten.”

With the wave of his hand, the wine transforms into a can of Diet Coke. You would laugh at the displeased look on his face, but you know that you’re not Mr. D’s favorite camper right now. He takes a sip of the soda before turning to face you and Jeongguk.

“You and you heroes,” he sighs, “always causing trouble around here.”

“It was an accident, sir,” Jeongguk speaks up first, which is not surprising. He’s always trying to cover his own ass. “I didn’t mean to blast that canon of water towards the archery range. It was completely accidental. However, y/n aiming an arrow for my head is—”

You interrupt him, “Mr. D, how can a canon of water from yards away be an accident? I think it was completely on purpose.”

“The arrow was on purpose!” Jeongguk exclaims, turning towards you. “You were trying to kill me!”

Meeting his gaze with an eye roll, you say, “Oh, please, Jeon like I would ever—”

“Di immortales!” Mr. D suddenly yells. “Can you children shut up?”

Looking away from Jeongguk and towards your camp director, you notice the purple flames dancing in his eyes. An angry Dionysus always makes you tense. Often, you forget how much power this god actually has. He’s one of the twelve. You sink back and notice that Jeongguk does the same.

“Sorry, sir,” you both apologize quickly, and the purple flames lessen.

“I cannot stand mortals,” the god of wine clenches his teeth, “you both are insufferable. I’m starting to resent father for sending me here again!”

You don’t even know what to say. Mr. D sounds like a child right now.

“Ugh, just get out,” he continues, taking a sip of his Diet Coke, “you both are giving me a massive headache, and I’m in need of my daily nap.”

You blink; is Mr. D letting you both off the hook? No punishment? Before he can give you both one, you bid the god of wine goodbye and start walking out. Just as you’re about to push the doors open, Jeongguk’s voice stops you. “Just because Mr. D let us off the hook, doesn’t mean I’m going to forget that you nearly killed me today.”

Turning around, you look Jeongguk dead in the eye. “Are you trying to start something with me, Jeon? Because you shouldn’t start things you can’t finish.”

“Is that a threat?” he asks, a single brow raised.

“I guess you better watch your back,” you say and push the doors open before he can say anything else.

[get-lost-in-fanfiction]

LOST - Another Story

Rating: M

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Hello guys! I hope everyone is satisfied with the story so far. I realize there is not a lot of content with Amelia yet, and that’s mainly because I want to build it up. If you couldn’t tell, Amelia is hinting at thing to come, so it’s really important that you have already seen Lost to understand these reference. Anyways, here’s Tabula Rasa!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Tabula Rasa

We stand around miserably for a second, and I realize this is when our group loses any hope of getting rescued. I take a moment to walk away from the group, feeling overwhelmed by my place here. Even knowing what will happen, these moments of intensity affect me deeply. I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder and look behind me to see Boone. I smile at him and he points a thumb over his shoulder at the group starting to pack up to leave.

“We’re heading back to the beach now,” He says, and I can see Sawyer looking at us with a neutral face, “I just thought you should know.”

“Thanks Boone,” I say and realize there is a hint of jealousy in Sawyer's eyes.

Boone and I walk back to the group, with Boone walking just a bit too close to me. Sawyer greets us and says, “You alright blue-eyes?”

“She’s fine man, leave her alone,” Boone jumps in before I can speak.

“Guys I’m perfectly okay, I just needed a breather to swallow what we heard on the radio,” I say and Boone looks convinced, Sawyer, not so much.

“You sure?” Sawyer asks, “You’ve been acting weird since we crashed, not to mention-“ but he is cut off by Kate.

“Alright, let’s head out!” She shouts at the lot of us.

The hike has taken most of the day, and it’s felt longer than it did in the show. I guess that’s because there is a lot of time cut out of both the beach scenes and the hike scenes. But in the real world, there’s no break to switch back for the show to give us another realization about the characters.

“It’s Tabula Rasa,” I think, “I need to keep this straight.”

Boone’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, “It's getting dark,” he says.

“Then pick up the pace,” Sawyer snaps.

“Hick,” Boone comments under his breath

“Little louder?”

“We should make camp,” Sayid cuts in.

“What, here?” Shannon comments incredulously.

“Yes, here,” Sayid replies.

“I'm not stopping. You all have a nice cookout,” Sawyer says.

“Excellent, walk through the jungle in the dark.”

“Oooo, afraid the trees are going to get us?”

“No, what is knocking down the trees will get you.”

Sawyer pulls out the gun, “Well, if you're so worried about me, how about you give me the clip back?”

“Put the gun back in your pants, Sawyer. Sayid's right, if you keep walking you're not going to make it to the beach,” Kate adds.

“Yeah, why's that?” Sawyer asks as I notice Charlie looking away.

“Trust me,” Kate says.

As night falls upon the Island, we make camp and a fire. I lean against my backpack and look up at the stars, thinking about Australia. I laugh to myself about how Lost like my situation was. Of course the only other person with me was killed, of course it was traumatic, and of course I had to get back to LA as soon as possible. Am I really any different than the rest of my survivor companions? Truthfully I am, they don’t know who will live and who will die. I shudder to think that over half of our group will end up dead in a few years. I look at Sayid placing a rock on the ground with a thump and holding a torch.

“This is Australia,” He says, indicating the rock, “This is us,” lifting the torch a little to show what is what.

“Nice stick,” Sawyer adds and I give him a look.

“Two days ago we take off from Sydney,” Sayid begins, “We fly along the same north east route every commercial airliner bound for Los Angeles does. Now the pilot, he said he lost communication with the ground, correct?”

“Yeah,” Kate says, ”6 hours in. He turned around and headed for Fiji.”

“So, we changed course. Regrettably, no one knew we changed course. The turbulence hit. We know the rest,” at that, Sayid puts the torch's fire out.

“The pilot said we were over a thousand miles off course,” I flinch a little at Kate's words, and become surprised by my reaction.

“Yeah, but, they'll find us,” Charlie adds, “They have satellites in space that can take pictures of your license plate.”

“If only we were all wearing license plates,” I add in, stealing the line from Sayid.

“Well, aren't you the pessimist,” Charlie says to me, a little surprised. I don’t blame him for forgetting I tagged along.

“Basic photography,” Sayid says, “point and shoot. Satellites can shoot, but they must be told where to point.”

“Oh. Bollocks,” Charlie replies.

“Okay, really enjoyed the puppet show. Fantastic. But we're stuck in the middle of damn nowhere,” Sawyer says looking around at us, “How about we talk about that other thing? You know that transmission Abdul picked up on his little radio? The French chick that said, ‘They're all dead,’” Sawyer pauses to look at me, “The transmission's been on a loop for … how long was it, Freckles?”

“16 years,” Kate replies.

“Right. Let's talk about that,” Sawyer says.

“Well, we have to tell the others when we get back,” Boone adds.

“Tell them what, exactly?” Shannon snaps.

“What we heard,” Boone says to her.

“You didn't hear anything. I'm not a stupid translator,” Shannon spits at Boone.

“No one's going to tell them anything,” Sayis says to the both of them, “To relay what we heard without fully understanding it will cause a panic. If we tell them what we know we take away their hope. And hope is a very dangerous thing to lose.”

“So we lie,” Kate says. I laugh internally about the irony of our situation and the future Oceanic Six.

I’m sound asleep, that is until I hear Sayid say, “What are you doing?” Then I’m wide awake. I sit up a groan, having laid on a rock. Then I see Boone with the gun and I groan louder.

“Standing guard,” Boone answers, “You heard what they said is out there.”

“You took my gun off me, boy?” Sawyer says angrily, right by my ear. I wince and he glanced at me.

“Please, you've never even held a gun,” Sannon scoffs at Boone then turns to us, “He doesn't believe in guns. He goes on marches.”

“I don't go on marches,” Boone retorts.

“Give it back to me,” Sayid says.

“Yeah, give it to Al Jazeera, he'll protect us,” Sawyer adds sarcastically.

“Al Jazeera is a network,” Charlie quips.

“I'll keep the damn gun,” Boone spits.

“We should give it to her,” And all eyes turn to me when I realize Shannon is pointing at me.

“Yeah, she should hold the gun,” Charlie adds, despite not knowing my name.

“Fine with me,” Sayid says, “Well?” He looks to Boone

“Now hang on a minute, that's my gun!” Sawyer says angrily, “Why are you givin’ it to a kid?” Ouch. I know Sawyer means well, and I also know we aren't that close, so I try not to be too hurt about the kid statement.

“I’m 20, by the way,” I say to Sawyer before turning to Charlie and the rest of the group, “And my name is Amelia, Amelia Kassman.” Boone looks at me, the gun slack in his hand. He waits a beat before handing the gun over. I check to make sure the safety is on, it is, but I don't want to shoot myself in my sleep. We all lay back down and I set the gun uncomfortably beside me, the barrel facing away from anyway. I look up and catch Sawyer looking at me, but he quickly rolls over once he spots me. I flip onto my back, brush the rock from under me, and slowly fall back asleep, my hand inches away from the gun.

We finally make it back to the beach and I can see Hurley hurrying off to a tent where I know the US Marshall is. Our group stands together as Sayid takes center stage and a gaggle of the survivors gather around Sayid. I look away from the scene and to the ocean where I know I can find some comfort. I only look back when I hear Sayid start to speak.

“As you and the others know, we hiked up the mountain in an attempt to help the rescue team locate us,” Sayid says beginning the lie,” The transceiver failed to pick up a signal. We weren't able to send out a call for help,” I glance at Kate and Shannon,” But we're not giving up. If we gather electronic equipment - your cell phones, laptops - I can boost the signal and we can try again, but that may take some time. So for now, we should begin rationing our remaining food. If it rains, we should set up tarps to collect water. I need to organize 3 separate groups. Each group should have a leader,” I notice Jack walking up to the gathering, “One group for water - I'll organize that. Who's going to organize electronics?” Then I notice Kate walking towards Jack, “You? Rationing food? Okay. And I believe a third group should concern themselves with the construction of…” then I tune Sayid out and walk away myself.

I amble my way back to my tent and sit down in the warm sand in front of my tent. I look out at the ocean and realize I’m probably going to do that a lot. I can see why Rose did it for so long, too, it’s quite soothing. Although I know what’s going to happen and she doesn’t. I drop my head to my hands and groan, the realization coming at me again and making me dizzy. I had always wanted to be on the Island and experience what the Losties did, but now that I’m here I’m regretting that wish. Maybe it’s because I never really thought about knowing everything before, or maybe it’s because I never really took the time to think about it. I hope I get over it soon, I don’t think I can take these strong waves of emotion every day.

I watch as Jack walks over to the fuselage, a bag and a flashlight in hand. I chuckle to myself, thinking over the interaction of Sawyer and Jack in there. I half think to go in there myself, but the thought of being around those dead bodies makes me shiver despite the sun and the humidity. I don’t think I’ll be going in there unless someone holds a gun to my head and tells me to. I don’t foresee that happening to me so I don’t worry too much. Then I remember the gun sticking out of my pants, and the metal suddenly burns me. Then I spot Kate walking towards the tent with the US Marshall and I scramble to my feet.

“Kate, hey, Kate!” I shout slightly, to get her attention. She turns to me and stops, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. I reach behind me and pull out the gun, offering it to her, handle out. “Please take it, I don’t like the memory it brings.”

Kate’s eyes flicker to me, the tent, the gun, then back up to me. She wraps her hand around the gun and takes it from me, and I let out a small breath. “Okay,” she says, sticks the gun in the back of her pants and walks away.

Later, much later, a whole rainstorm later, the moans and cries of the US Marshall can be heard around the camp. The sun is almost set and I can see Kate stacking wood to make a fire. I watch as Sawyer walks up to Kate, and a familiar pit in my stomach forms and I have to swallow hard to make it go away. I know what they’re saying, I can almost hear it. It makes my heart ache and I realize for the first time that I do in fact have a crush on Sawyer. I denied it to myself in all of the rewatches of the show, it’s not healthy to have a crush on someone who doesn’t exist. Yet now he does and I have to grapple with the feelings that have come to the surface.

I watch as Kate walks into the tent, Hurley talk worriedly to Jack, Sawyer walks in from behind, Kate walking out again, and then the sickening shot I knew was coming. I see Sawyer waltz his way out of the tent as Jack rushes forward, says something angrily to Sawyer, and then run into the tent. I know the US Marshall is suffering, and I know the amount of guilt Sawyer feels. What I can’t predict is Jack running out of the tent and towards me.

“Amelia!” He gasps once he reaches me, “You gotta come help, it’s the US Marshall, Sawyer-“

“Yeah I know,” I say quickly, “I heard the shot. I was watching the whole time.”

“Well come on then,” Jack says hurriedly and I push myself off the sand and jog quickly toward the infirmary tent. Once we arrive I can see Sawyer looking guiltily towards the tent.

“You shot him in the chest?” Jack says to Sawyer angrily.

“I was aiming for his heart,” Sawyer replies guiltily.

“You missed.”

“Man, is he still breathing?” Hurley asks.

“You perforated his lung,” Jack states, “It'll take hours to bleed out.”

“So what is—I only had one bullet,” Sawyer says.

“That’s enough Sawyer, please leave now,” I say as gently as possibly.

Hurley leaves with an, “Oh boy,” and Sawyer follows him.

“What do we do Doc?” I ask, wincing at the bad timing of the nickname.

“We have to put him out of his misery,” Jack answers.

“How are you gonna do that?”

“I have to suffocate him,” Jack states and I look at the Marshall. I don’t know him well enough to want to call him Mars.

“Jack…” I begin but he cuts me off.

“Hold his hand, will you?” He says and I nod silently, unable to form words.

I kneel down on the ground and hold the Marshall’s hand, he grips me back tightly and I hold in a yelp of pain. I close my eyes tightly as the Marshall thrashes a bit under the weight of whatever Jack is using to suffocate him. Suddenly it stops, and I yank my probably bruised hand away from the dead Marshall’s. I stand shakily as Jack slowly removed the airline blanket from the Marshall’s face. He looks guilty.

“It had to be done Jack,” I say quietly, as if I’m going to somehow wake the Marshall up. Jack says nothing and walks out of the tent. I stay behind for a moment, only to close the Marshall’s eyes. I shiver, I’m not meant to work with the dead.

I walk out of the infirmary tent and slowly back to my own, passing people along the way. I don’t look at them. I wonder if they knew what I had to do, I’m sure they know I helped Jack. Do they know I held a dying man’s hand? I look for Sawyer but I don’t see him. He must be in his tent already. I wander back to mine, feeling like I’m in a daze. I bash myself for being so affected by this, it shouldn’t be that serious. I barely knew him. I stumble into my tent and lay down, roughly pulling up my blanket and finally slipping into an uneasy sleep with the moans of the dying Marshall flitting in and out.

In the morning I wake up far past anyone else, and can see Jack and Kate already talking. That means Locke found Vincent and already told Michael about it, and I glance around the beach camp to see if I can spot the father and son. When I realize I can’t, I set to work securing my tent flaps open to let the ocean air in and filter the nasty air out. I smile as Sayid tossed Sawyer an apple, and he beckons me over to share it with him. I brace myself for another day.

LOST

[urdearestmom]

I'll Walk With You

hello everyone shocked to see me posting yet again???????

i said after i posted that oneshot rehashing 3x06 that i was going to one day write something where mike and max have an actual conversation.... and here it is!! for your reading pleasure :)

i think i did them and their dynamic justice with this and i'm super proud of how it turned out. we're unlikely to ever get something like this in the show but i'm hoping s4 at least gives us them being actual friends so that i can infer that something like this happened between seasons lol

Max’s house is silent as the grave. She isn’t surprised, it’s been like this nearly all the time since the summer. Her stepfather will drink himself back to sleep on the couch, and her mother will say nothing. Max won’t say anything either. The day has barely begun and it’s already shit.

Most of the time she escapes the horrible atmosphere inside her house by going to school, but it’s Spring Break now and she has nowhere to be. She’ll be stuck with her thoughts all day if she doesn’t find something else to do, so after nearly two hours of trying in vain to entertain herself, she decides to head out and see if Lucas is free. She knows Dustin already left town with his mom the night before, and she’s not willing to have Mike third wheel her and Lucas, so she hopes he’s down to go do something with her. He’s good at distracting her from the inescapable cycle of guilt and anger she feels constantly nowadays.

Except when she gets to his house, his parents are in the garage putting things into the trunk of the family car. She stops at the sight. Erica is nowhere to be seen but Lucas is standing in the front doorway and sees Max coming right away. He meets her in the street.

“Max, hey,” he says. “What’s up?”

Max gestures to his house. “I came to see if you wanted to hang out, but it looks like you guys are going somewhere.”

Lucas frowns. “I thought I told you, we’re going to visit my cousins in Chicago for a few days.”

Lord, a few days? Lucas must see it on her face because he scrambles to assure her it’s not for the whole week.

“I’ll be back Wednesday,” he promises.

“Today’s Sunday,” she protests. She knows there’s literally nothing to be done about it, but it still sucks. What’s she going to do all week?

“I swear I told you,” Lucas repeats.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Max answers. “You probably did. I’m sorry, just… forgot.”

He frowns again. Max has been forgetting a lot of things lately. She’s not sure why, it just feels like everything in her life is too much and her brain can’t handle it the way it should. Freshman year has not been the greatest so far.

“You okay?” He asks her, reaching for her hands, and his concern makes her heart squeeze painfully in her chest. He’s probably the only person who actually cares about her well-being, seeing as her mom clearly doesn’t.

Max nods. “Yeah. I just didn’t want to be at home, but I guess I’ll find something else to do. Bye, Lucas,” she says, squeezing his fingers gratefully before turning away to bike off back down the street.

“Hey!” He calls. She turns back. He motions to the big house next door, equally familiar to her. “Mike’s still home, maybe you can ask him?”

Max crosses her arms. “Like he would want to hang out with me,” she scoffs.

Lucas sighs. “Look, I know he can be a bit of an ass sometimes-”

“That’s putting it lightly.”

“-But he’s not a bad person, Max, you know that. He’s dealing with a lot right now,” Lucas finishes.

Max rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well, he’s not the only one,” she says bitingly. She has never gotten along with the third boy in their group and at this point she isn’t sure she ever will. She’s also not really in the mood to look at his stupid face today, considering it’ll more than likely start an argument and she doesn’t have the energy for that.

“I know,” Lucas says. “I know. But you’re both my best friends and I think you guys are more alike than you think. If you just gave each other another chance, you’d get along.”

Max doesn’t reply. She doesn’t really know what to say because she knows Lucas is only trying to help her with what he thinks is the current best solution, but she doesn’t want to agree with him either.

“Just think about it,” he continues. “He’s the only one not going anywhere so if you really need to see someone…”

She gets what Lucas is implying, but really? “He’d probably laugh in my face if I showed up at the door. I’d rather stay home.”

At that, Lucas raises his arms in surrender. “I’m just saying he wouldn’t turn you away. We don’t lie to each other, alright?”

Max shrugs in response. “Whatever. I’ll figure something out.”

Lucas steps forward quickly to hug her. Pulling back, he keeps his hands on her arms. “I wrote my cousins’ phone number on the back of your math worksheet yesterday if you need it.”

She gives him a tiny nod and he returns it with a small smile, dropping his arms back to his sides.

“I’ll see you first thing Thursday morning,” he adds.

“Thursday,” she repeats, putting one foot back on her bike pedal. “Got it.” What’s she supposed to do until Thursday?

The answer, as it happens, is absolutely nothing. For the rest of Sunday afternoon, Max rides around town with no destination. She stops in a park for a while, sitting down and pulling up blades of grass and sprinkling them around her. A man walking his dog gives her a weird look and she flips the bird at his back. That action feels oddly satisfying, even if he didn’t see it. In the evening she makes her way back to her house, and everyone pretends like she didn’t just spend the entire day gone.

Monday dawns looking and feeling exactly the same, except Max decides to get a start on some homework. This way when Lucas comes back she’ll be free to hang out with him without the thought of her assignments hanging over her head. Her mom leaves to go to work and all it does is make Max hyper aware of Neil’s movements across the house. He’s supposed to go to work too, but Max isn’t sure he will. In fact, she sort of suspects he’s either quit or been fired. He’s missed too many days.

When she’s tired of writing and the lines of her character analysis of Mercutio are starting to blur into the equations on her algebra worksheet, she goes into the kitchen to find something to eat. Neil’s gone, so she makes herself a ham and cheese sandwich and stands by the sink to eat it. She feels exhausted, and it’s barely afternoon.

Hours later, she wakes up from a nap to the sun near setting and the noises of her mom puttering around the kitchen making dinner. The first thing her gaze lands on is the clunky walkie-talkie sitting on her desk, and her thoughts spring to the boys. Specifically, what Lucas said to her the day before.

Maybe it has more merit than she first gave it. It’s true that she doesn’t get along with Mike at all, but she might be willing to try again at some point, if only to appease Lucas. She had wanted to when they all first met. She liked the other boys just fine, but she could tell from the get-go that Mike was their ringleader and his opinion could sway the others. If she wanted to truly feel like a part of the group, they all had to be on board. Even after that, things weren’t so terrible between them; at least until summer and all the drama with El and then everything else that happened. Now, Max’s headspace is too occupied by other problems to care much about trying to repair her somewhat-friendship with him, and Mike has become more and more reclusive by the day. She even thinks she saw him smoking once, down at the far end of the field, which, although she isn’t an expert, she feels is extremely uncharacteristic.

Everything’s just weird now. There’s too many empty holes in all their lives.

Dinner is mostly quiet; nobody in this house ever says anything that has any true meaning anyway. Maybe it’s better this way. Neil ends up on the couch joined by his bottle of whiskey and Max’s mom shoos her away after she’s cleared the table, so Max retreats back to her room. The silence is almost deafening, and she wishes that dumb walkie-talkie on her desk would crackle. What she wouldn’t give for someone to say real words to her.

She considers calling Lucas, but she doesn’t want to bother him with her problems when he’s supposed to be having fun with his cousins. She also doesn’t want Neil to ask who she’s calling. In the end, she ends up tidying her room, gathering up all her comic books and folding the clothes she has on the floor before placing them on her chair. The walkie seems like it’s calling out to her as she glances at it every five seconds, and then finally lets her frustration out on it by snatching it up and launching it at her bed. She doesn’t want to break it, but she did want to throw it. Why does she keep looking at it? It’s not like anyone’s going to call her on it. The only people who might are both out of town.

Her emotions war inside of her. On the one hand, she knows what she wants, what she needs. She needs to talk to someone freely so it has to be someone who relates to what she’s seen, because being stuck virtually alone inside her house for the next few days until Lucas gets back is going to drive her insane. Unfortunately the only person she can think of is someone she isn’t on good terms with, which makes her angry for even having the thought. Is she really desperate enough to potentially embarrass herself?

Damn Lucas for putting the idea in her head. She’s sure she never would’ve considered it on her own. Damn Lucas and his stupid advice, damn Dustin for ever speaking to her that day and getting her involved in all their mess, and damn Mike for hating her from day one.

Damn her for going to talk to him anyway. She sneaks out her window, just as she has done to meet Lucas so many times, except it’s after nine and it’s dark out. She brings the walkie with her.

On the way, she wonders why she’s even doing this. She supposes it would make it easier for Lucas and Dustin when they all hang out together (which is getting rarer every week) if she and Mike aren’t constantly at each other’s throats about something or other. She also remembers something El said to her on the phone a while ago that she had forgotten about until this very moment. El had heard enough complaints from both of them about each other and was just wishing they would stop fighting. Max had scoffed at it and been about to launch into another rant about just how much of a jerk Mike was when El had said she didn’t care if they weren’t friends, she just wanted them to stop being so mad all the time.

Max kind of agrees with her. Being angry all the time is exhausting, and there are way worse things in her life to be angry about than Mike Wheeler and his dumb attitude. If she can make peace with him, maybe she won’t feel so out of place around her own friends. And maybe, if they can get over everything that’s happened between them, it’ll give her hope that the rest of her life might look up one day, too.

It’s only when she gets to his house that she realizes she doesn’t know what she wants to say. Maybe it doesn’t have to be a whole conversation, maybe just seeing each other for five minutes will give her enough stability to stay in her house until Lucas returns and she can talk to him instead. She just needs to be around someone who knows the things she’s been through since she moved here, someone who looks at her and knows why she is the way she is. Her mom can never know and will never understand, and Neil is too scary to ever think about approaching him with anything at all.

She drops her bike in the grass by the back of the house, making her way to the basement door where she knows the boys like to be. He’s probably in there still. Her stomach is roiling with nerves, scared that he’ll open the door and glare at her like he usually does, but she remembers there’s another way he looks at her sometimes. There are moments at school, when she passes the gym or sees the basketball team, where Max gets overwhelmed at the memories of her dead stepbrother. It’s almost like she can smell him, the way he used to get up in her face when he yelled at her and the way he looked when he died apologizing to her. It’s moments like that when Dustin and Lucas will be distracted with some petty disagreement that she looks to Mike and his gaze contains solidarity instead of hostility; reassurement that he knows what it feels like to be reminded at every turn of someone you cared about who is gone. He was there, too, and saw Billy sacrifice himself at the last moment just as she did. It’s not an image either of them can forget.

It’s this that gives her the courage to rap her knuckles on the glass pane of the basement door and wait for an answer. When she waits ten seconds and nothing happens, she frowns and knocks again. He wouldn’t know it’s her, why would he ignore it?

She pushes her face up to the door again and tries to see inside, her breath fogging against the glass, and then realizes all the lights in the basement are off.

“Shit,” she says quietly. She doesn’t want to show up at the front door at this time of night. His mom will probably answer and Max doesn’t want to explain herself. She wanders around to the front of the house anyway, looking at which lights are on. There’s one on the ground floor that flickers and seems like it might be a TV, and there’s one on in a room on the second floor. That room has pink wallpaper, though, so Max decides to assume it’s not the one she’s looking for. The middle upstairs window is dark, and the one on the left has the blinds pulled halfway down, but she spots a familiar figure walking past it in the half second her eyes jump to it. Bingo.

She takes a breath to steel herself before bringing the walkie-talkie out of her jacket pocket and pressing down on the button. “Mike, do you copy? It’s Max. Over.”

The walkie crackles with static for a few seconds, and then clears up as an answer comes through. “Yeah, I copy. What do you want? Over.”

“Can you come outside?”

It crackles again in the silence, and Max thinks that maybe this was insane and she should just go home. Then, “You’re outside?”

The blinds lift all the way up and Max sees Mike’s expression change from confused to surprised, like he didn’t actually believe she was there. In a second, he has the window pulled up too and his head sticking out of it.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, his tone of voice anxious, and Max realizes he probably thinks something horrible has happened. In his head, there’s likely no other reason she of all people would show up at his house at close to ten at night.

“Nothing happened, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she says, glancing away from him above her and noticing she’s standing in front of the front door. This is not a good place to be. “I just- didn’t want to be alone.”

She looks back up to find him staring at her like she’s grown another head. “So you came to me?”

Max huffs and crosses her arms. “Well, there’s no one else to go to!”

“Keep your voice down!” He hisses. “Do you want my mom to hear you?”

She glares. She’s starting to think that this was a bad idea after all.

After a few seconds of mutinous eye contact, Mike puts a hand to his forehead exasperatedly. “Give me a minute, I’ll meet you at the basement door.” He shuts the window and pulls the blinds down without another word, so Max heeds the order and circles back around to where she left her bike. A few moments later, he comes out the door shrugging on a jacket over what looks like-

“Are those Star Wars pyjamas?” She asks, her mouth twisting into a teasing little smile. What does El see in this guy? As far as she knows, Lucas isn’t this completely nerdy.

He gives her a flat look. “Why do you have to have a problem with everything that I do?”

She frowns. “It was just a question. Relax, jeez.”

In response, Mike puts his hands in his pockets and looks at her. “So what do you want to do?”

Max balks for a second, awkwardness taking over her. This is so weird. She’s never willingly chosen to spend any of her time alone with Mike, and now she doesn’t know what to do.

“Um… just- walk around, maybe?”

He shrugs at her answer and starts walking toward the line of trees behind the house, where there’s a little path that leads off to the next street. Max follows quietly, a little moonlight shining down on them, and she thinks that the silence between them doesn’t feel as explosive as it usually does.

Somewhere along the way, after they’ve crossed another street and gone down a path between two houses, Mike takes something shiny out of his pocket and starts playing with it, and Max sees that it’s a lighter.

“What’s that for?” She asks.

“Lighting things up,” he says.

“You smoke?”

“Only sometimes.”

“So what’s it for the other times?”

He looks at her and his eyebrows furrow for a quick second, seemingly surprised that she inferred something about him correctly.

Mike shrugs again. “Sometimes I go out to the woods and set dead leaves on fire one at a time just to watch them burn. It’s weird how something that was alive once can just disintegrate right in front of you.”

Max isn’t sure what to say to that, but she offers something anyway. “Sometimes I steal my stepdad’s Bowie knife. Use it to stab trees,” she says casually. “Sometimes I even carve that I hate him into them.”

She’s never told Lucas that. Something in her knows that he wouldn’t relate, that his way of dealing with his anger is much calmer and reserved, but Mike’s admission of low-level violence makes her feel less crazy for her own. Maybe Lucas was right in saying they’re more alike than they think they are.

They come out of the trees behind the houses, and the path continues down a hill to a small playground area. There's a swing set that Max sits down on, the cold rubber biting through the fabric of her jeans and making her shiver. The chains creak when Mike sits in the one next to her. He’s digging through his pockets for something.

Max is almost surprised when he pulls out a box of cigarettes and plucks one from the pack, lighting it, but given what he’d just told her two minutes ago it’s not that shocking. He takes a pull from it and then blows the smoke out into the air slowly.

“You want some?” He asks, turning to her.

She remembers the choking sensation she’d felt that time Billy had offered her a drag from his cigarette, and then her mom’s reaction to it.

“Yeah, why not.” Maybe if she still smells like smoke tomorrow, her mom will care enough to ask where she’s been.

Mike hands it to her and the tips of his fingers are warm. “You’ve smoked before?”

“Once,” Max says.

He nods and watches her, and she tries not to let the hot, ashy air she breathes in make her choke. She holds it for a few seconds and then blows it out, and it makes her feel less nervous than she was before about this whole situation.

The pair of them sit there in the darkness for a few minutes, sharing the cigarette in silence, before Max thinks to ask a question she never got a real answer for.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Mike doesn’t look at her, sucking in another breath of smoke. “I don’t hate you.”

“You sure act like you do.”

“Oh, and you don’t?” He says sarcastically, still not looking at her. “If I hated you why would I be here right now?”

“Well, if I hated you, why would I have come talk to you?” She retorts, trying to restrain the irritation she knows is probably written all over her. If she doesn’t rein herself in, she knows this is going to go south quicker than she wants it to.

He laughs dryly. “You said it yourself. You only came because there’s no one else.”

Max bites back the anger that’s trying to rise. He does have a point there, but she’s not going to tell him that. He’s also not answering her question.

“Fine. Maybe you don’t hate me.”

“I don’t.”

“What’s your problem with me then?”

He hands her the end of the cigarette to finish and grabs onto the chains of the swing, dragging the toes of his Converse through the grass.

“You’re always starting shit with me for no reason and it makes me so tired,” he says. “Like, we’d be friends just fine if we didn’t argue every other day.”

“And whose fault is that…” Max murmurs under her breath, dropping the cigarette stub to the ground and putting it out with her foot.

Mike turns to her sharply. “Uh, yours? You made El break up with me! How am I supposed to forget that?”

“I already told you I didn’t make her!” Max says loudly. Why is he still on this? As far as Max is aware, they’re basically back together anyway so it’s not like it made a difference. “And how am I supposed to forget how shit you made me feel the first week I was here?”

He looks away again. “I was pretty rude, I’ll give you that.”

She scoffs. “That’s underrating it. You were a total asshole.”

He pushes himself forward a little bit and then lets himself swing back. “I guess I never really apologized for that. I do regret it.”

Max stays silent and waits for him to continue. He’s slumped over in the swing, looking smaller and sadder than she’s ever seen him look, and her heart twinges. She recognizes the defeat present in the way his shoulders are hunched, the complete and utter exhaustion at the state of their lives painted on his face. It’s what she sees every day when she looks in the mirror.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t like you, or something,” he tells her. “I was jealous that Lucas and Dustin seemed like they were moving on when I was so…”

“Messed up?” She offers.

Mike shrugs. “Yeah. And part of it was out of concern for you, too.”

Max furrows her brows in confusion. That’s new. “Concern?” She asks, shaking her head slowly. Her hair swings around her face like a curtain, blocking her vision, but she wants to look at Mike and see how he explains this. She tucks it away behind her ear.

“Yeah,” he says again. “I could see how fucked up Will was, and I knew how fucked up I was. And Dustin and Lucas are good at pretending stuff doesn’t affect them but I know it did. It does.”

“And?”

“And I didn’t want someone new getting mixed up in our shit, okay?” He bursts out, meeting her curious gaze once again. “I didn’t want someone else to have to experience the stuff we did. I thought if I made it obvious that I didn’t want you there, you would leave. You know now, but when Lucas told you we couldn’t tell you stuff for your own safety it was the truth.”

Max thinks about that. She supposes it makes sense. She has noticed that Mike tends to be the guy that worries about everyone else’s safety, and always wants to get to the bottom of the problem before anyone gets hurt. Lucas is the same and it’s something she admires about him, but it’s overtly obvious in Mike when he’s always the one stressing about coming up with plans. Lucas is a little more go-with-what-the-adults-say.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” Mike finally says, and his expression is earnest. He’s a bad liar anyway, so Max knows that he means it. Speaking of his lies… she has something to apologize for too.

“I’m sorry too,” she says. “For judging your relationship too fast.”

He makes a weird noise when he registers what she said, almost like a laugh but kind of mad, too. “Yeah, and for making my girlfriend dump me.”

Max reaches out towards him and smacks his arm, a spike of irritation fuelling her. “Mike, how many goddamn times do I have to tell you I didn’t make her?”

“Well, what the hell did you say to her to make her do that?!” He exclaims.

The peace of the previous moment is gone and Max crosses her arms over her chest defensively. “From what she told me, it sounded like you were just lying straight to her face so you didn’t have to see her. All I did was tell her that if you did it again, she should dump your ass. You did it to yourself.”

Mike throws his arms up. “Hopper made me lie! He told me if I didn’t, he wouldn’t let me see her anymore. You seriously think I wouldn’t want to spend time with her? After everything we went through?”

She thinks for a second about the way he’d looked when El had walked back into their lives; the way he had seemed to drop all the negativity he’d been carrying around the second she came through that door. Max remembers thinking she’d never been so sure about someone’s presence in her life.

He’s still on a roll. “What, is that why you’ve dumped Lucas, like, seven times? You just break up with him the second he does something you don’t like without even letting him explain himself?”

Bringing that up is a sore point. Max feels incredibly guilty for the way she’s treated Lucas in the past, and she’s trying to be better. She’d told him once that she knew she could be a jerk like her stepbrother sometimes, that she was angry just like he was, but that she didn’t want to be like him. And then she turned around and behaved exactly like him, manipulating Lucas’ reactions and dumping him over and over because she knew he would come back. It made her feel like she was in control, the dominant one, the complete opposite of what she saw in her mother and what she felt in her house every day.

But she had come to a point where she realized that one day, Lucas would get fed up with her. There would come a day when he wouldn’t stand for it anymore and he’d leave her permanently, and Max didn’t think she could live with that. From then on, she had decided to try harder with him and make things better, to talk about her feelings more. It’s always going to be difficult for her, but Lucas is worth it.

“Don’t say that like you know anything about why I did that,” she says sharply, gripping so tightly onto the chain of the swing that the cold metal feels like ice in her hand.

Mike glares back at her, indignant. “Oh, that’s rich! Like you knew anything about me when you said that shit to El!”

Max stands up suddenly. “I’m tired of the lies, Mike! Do you know what it’s like to live in a house where your mom will watch your brother get beat up and leave the room so she can pretend it didn’t happen? Where she doesn’t care where you go or how you feel or what’s going on with you because if she doesn’t ask, she doesn’t have to lie to herself that it’s okay? Where we all just don’t talk about anything and pretend it’s all fine when it isn’t?”

She’s breathing hard and he’s staring up at her with wide eyes, accustomed to her outbursts by now but not like this. Max sits back down on the swing, hard.

“I broke up with Lucas a lot because it made me feel like I had control,” she admits. “I needed to feel like I was in charge of the situation. I get enough of being treated second-class at home, and I don’t want to be like my mom, ever.”

She looks back at Mike on the other swing and he doesn’t look mad at her anymore, only like he’s processing what he’s just heard. It lets her own anger drain out of her.

“When El told me what you said, it reminded me of my mom,” Max continues. “She seemed so confused on why you would do that and to me it looked like you were just using her when you wanted her and dropping her when you didn’t. My mom kind of… disappears into whoever she’s dating and just goes along with whatever they do, and it looked like that for me,” she finishes.

“I get it,” he says, and Max raises her eyebrows. “I mean, I don’t get it personally, my parents aren’t like that. I just meant I get where you’re coming from. It makes sense why you would think that way.”

“I didn’t want the same thing that happens to my mom to happen to El,” Max adds. “She is her own person, and she of all people deserves the chance to be that.”

At last, they find common ground. “I agree,” Mike replies. “She’s been through enough in her life. And I’m happy you and her are friends now,” he adds. “Seriously. It was kind of weird to imagine her having girl problems or something and talking to my sister about it. I’m glad she has you.”

“I’m glad she has you,” Max says, and Mike looks shocked to hear her say it. “I might not get why, but I know you make her happy somehow. Even if you do wear Star Wars pyjamas.”

“Hey!” He says, offended. “You recognizing it means you’ve seen it too. And I know for a fact you read comics, so you’re just as much of a nerd as me.”

Max shrugs, giving him the point. “At least I can beat you at arcade games.”

“Is that a challenge?” He asks, swinging closer as if to intimidate her.

Max laughs, and it’s a real laugh for the first time in what feels like forever. “You’re on.”

“Tomorrow,” Mike suggests. “Twelve o’clock. I’ll meet you there.”

“Bring painkillers,” she warns him. “You’re gonna need them after I’m done kicking your ass at every. Single. Game.”

“You won’t beat me at Galaga,” he says proudly.

“Wanna bet?”

They stand up and shake hands, and his feels pleasantly warm. It’s a nice change from the frozen chain she was holding onto.

“Loser gets us fries,” Mike adds, and Max agrees to it. As if of one mind, they both turn back up the path they came from.

They’re back across the two streets they crossed and almost all the way back to Mike’s house when Max speaks again.

“So are we good?” She asks. She feels good about having aired out all the conflict she had with him, and he’s had this dumb smile on his face the whole time they’ve been walking back, which she’s choosing to take as a good sign.

“Yeah,” he says, looking at his feet. “We’re good.” He smiles wider.

It brings a small smile to Max’s own face. Having friends feels nice. “Why are you smiling like that?”

He coughs a little, scratching his head. “Just thinking about how happy El will be when she finds out we’re not enemies anymore.”

Max rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “You are so whipped.”

He shrugs as if to say, what can you do?

“I think Lucas and Dustin will benefit from having us not trying to kill each other every five seconds, too,” she says.

“Definitely.”

“Although I’ll probably still be annoyed by half the things you say.”

Mike makes a face like he’s not surprised to hear that. “Don’t worry about it. You’re still annoying, I just like you now. No more actual fighting.”

“Good,” she replies, feeling happier than she has in days as they arrive back in his backyard. She can faintly see her bike lying in the grass.

Mike has the door to the basement halfway open by the time she’s sitting on her bike ready to ride away, and at the last second lays a hand on her arm.

“Hey, anytime you need somewhere to go… I’m usually home,” he says, looking at her directly. It’s a simple thing to say, but she knows what he means by it. He’s telling her that he understands that sometimes her house is not a home, and that she’s always welcome in his if she needs it.

“Thanks,” she responds, and for once she is truly thankful for Mike Wheeler’s existence.

“Well, good night,” he answers, and awkwardly salutes her out of nowhere.

Max squints at him confusedly for a second. “I’ll... see you tomorrow,” she says haltingly.

He looks kind of embarrassed and shuts the door quickly, and Max rides off back to her house. That was random.

However, she is looking forward to tomorrow. She has a feeling Mike’s going to be the type of friend she’s constantly competing with, ribbing back and forth to see who can be worse just like they usually do, but this time knowing they’re both forgiven for their mistakes. It’s different from her other friendships for sure, but she thinks it’ll be good. Lucas is going to be pleased.

Maybe the wait until Thursday won’t be so bad after all.

[mermaidxatxheart]

Safe Place

This is for @imanuglywombat​‘s challenge. I’m so sorry it’s so late, babe. Thanks for being so understanding! This is based on the beach board Laura has. But highly inspired by the pictures that you’ll see in the story at various points.

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Word Count: 4788

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, swearing, disgusting fluff. Seriously some tooth-rotting fluff, I’d turn back now if I were you.

Bucky leans against the car, waiting for his space case girlfriend. He told her to pack last night. He knew this would happen. He rolls onto his hip, turning from facing the parking lot to facing your apartment building. Hand on his hip, left arm resting on the roof of his old car, he balances on one foot and heaves a sigh.  

Five more minutes. 

 He’ll give you exactly five more minutes before he goes in and retrieves you himself, packed or not. 

 Four minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, you come banging out the door, your duffel bag half hanging off your arm as it smacks from the door to your leg. You grin at him, clumsily brushing your hair out of your face. 

 “I’m ready!” You call, extracting yourself so you don’t trip. 

 He can’t help but chuckle as you rush at him. He catches you in his arms, your bag crashing into his back. 

 “You sure you’re ready? Have everything you need?” He asks, brushing your hair behind your ear. You beam happily at him and nod, pressing a kiss to his lips. He closes his eyes, pulling you closer. Kissing you is one of his favorite past times. If you let him, he would kiss you all day long. 

 Before he can even think about getting handsy, you pull back, squinting at him suspiciously. “Are we getting snacks?” You ask. 

 “It’s a road trip. Obviously, we’ll get snacks.” He grins.

 “Good.” Your eyes drop to the back seat of his car and you clap excitedly. “You brought the blankets! And my pillows! Bucky!” You fling open the back door, smacking him with it as you deposit your bag in the back seat. You pause, looking up at him nervously. 

 “Did I just hit you?” You ask and he shrugs casually. 

 “I’m okay, sweetheart. C’mon, let’s get going.” He takes your hand and leads you out of the way so he can close the door. 

 “I’m so sorry, Bucky.” You rush and he leads you around to the passenger seat.

 “Doll, I’m fine. Don’t you worry about me.” He promises, cupping your face and kissing your forehead. “I promise.” He opens the door for you and guides you in. He shuts the door gently and jogs back to the driver’s side. He climbs in and looks over at you, worrying your lower lip. 

 He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “Hey.” He starts and you look up at him expectantly. “We’re going to the beach!” He says excitedly and you break out into a wide smile.

 “I’ve never seen the beach.” You reply, reaching for your seatbelt. 

 “I know, doll. You’re gonna love it.” He promises, lifting your hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it. 

 “I’ve already told you that, haven’t I?” You guess. 

 “I would listen to you repeat yourself for hours if it meant I could hear your voice.” He says, starting the car. You scoot just a little closer to him on the bench seat and twist to lean against his side. He drapes his arm around you and backs out of the space. You watch your apartment building disappear out the window and you give it a little wave. He can almost hear you whisper ‘bye’ and he smiles to himself. 

 You reach over to the radio and click it on, twisting the dial to your favorite station. “I love this song!” You exclaim, tapping his arm. He turns up the volume a little and you begin to hum along, mumbling all the wrong words, but you don’t care, not really. 

 He likes your version better. 

  After about an hour, he pulls off the highway to a convenience store. He has to pee and you wanted snacks. He is, if nothing else, a man of his word. 

 You tip your head back and look at him curiously. 

 “You require snacks. I require a bathroom.” He says, helping you sit up. You laugh and he swears he could die happy. He climbs out and walks around to you, opening your door for you. 

 “Pick out anything you want; I’ll be right back.” He presses a kiss to your temple and disappears into the bathroom. 

 He hates leaving you alone, especially out in public. His girl. So, he makes it quick, washes his hands in record time and he’s back out to the main store. He scans the tops of the aisles, looking for you, but you aren’t visible. 

 His heart skips just for a second, before he forces himself to stay calm. He walks along the back wall, glancing down every aisle until he finds you, bent over, looking at snacks on the bottom shelf. He lets out a small breath and walks over to you. His hand rests on your lower back and you look over your shoulder at him with a smile.

 “What’re you looking at?” He asks, rubbing your back. 

 “Pringles. Cheese? Or original?” You ask. 

 “Let’s get both.” He suggests and is rewarded with your eyes brightening. 

 “Okay! Can we get drinks, too?” You bounce on the balls of your feet. 

 “Of course.” He takes the basket from you as you head for the coolers. He picks out some more of your favorite snacks before going over to the drink case. He finds you with your arms full of bottles. 

 You look at him with a grin. “Did you want something, too?”

 “You’re such a shit.” He laughs, taking them out of your arms and setting them in the basket. He pulls a few more drinks for himself and drapes an arm around you, leading you towards the register. He pays for everything and leads you back outside. 

 “Bucky?” You start as you cross the parking lot. 

 “Y/N.” He replies with a grin.

 You poke his side and he squirms away, catching your hand. “I have to tell you something. It’s important.” You say, pausing outside the car door. 

 “If you’re breaking up with me, that’s going to make this car ride very awkward.”

 You push his arm, but he can see the smile. “I was going to say thank you.”

 He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “It’s completely my pleasure, doll.”

 “I said I was going to, sir. But you ruined my moment with your jokes.” You say and he grins, opening the car door for you. 

 “And I would again, just to see you smile.” He says and you climb in the car. 

 “You’re so annoying.” You sigh. He closes the door after you and walks around to his side, climbing in. He gets all buckled in and starts the car as you twist to lean back against him again. “I love you.” You whisper and he squeezes your hand.

 “I love you, too, înger.”

 You roll down your window, using your toes on the crank and he marvels at your dexterity. You prop your feet up, wiggling your toes in the breeze. He smiles, rubbing your arm gently. 

 After a little while, you dig into the snack bag, pulling out the can of Pringles. You shift so you’re laying down with your head in his lap. 

 “Baby, that’s not safe.” He says, already adjusting his arm to keep you there. 

 “Of course, it is. I’m with you.” You say, opening the lid and smiling up at him innocently. He groans, playfully covering your face. 

 “Yes, you are.”

 You laugh and lick his hand. 

 “Gross.” He wipes his hand across your stomach. You hold a chip up to his lips and he takes it, making sure to catch your fingers in his mouth. You squeal as his teeth nip you, yanking your hand back. 

 “I want to say you’re mean to me,” you sigh. “but that would just be a lie.” You roll your eyes begrudgingly, offering him another chip. 

 “I could never be mean to you. Annoying as shit, of course-absolutely. I’m really down for that.” He grins and you laugh. 

 He turns up the radio, content with his place right now, sharing chips with you.

 ***

 “I have to pee!” You whine, bouncing in your seat, legs crossed, hands shoved between your thighs.

 “Almost there.” He promises, angling for the freeway exit.

 “Not fast enough.”

 He pulls into the parking lot of the gas station and parks closest to the door. You’re out and running before he can even turn off the engine. He decides to fill up on gas while you’re here, so he backs up to the pump and gets out.

 He hums quietly to himself as the numbers tick by on the machine. He keeps an eye on the door, waiting for you to come back out. It only takes another minute for you to bolt out the door and jump on his back, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

 “Feel better?” He asks, supporting your thighs as you rest your chin on his shoulder. 

 “Much. Do you need to go inside? I can finish this.” You offer, sliding down to the ground. 

 “Yeah, I might as well, since we’re here.” He pulls you close and kisses you slowly. Heat spreads through his body and you bump back into the car door. Your fingers curl into his hair, pulling slightly and he moans deep in his chest. He leans back, taking you in. 

 Your eyes are closed, lips reddened and puffy, still puckered and he sighs to himself. 

 “You need to be less good at kissing.” He mumbles and steps away, heading inside for the bathroom. 

 ***

 “Bucky? Where are we going?” You ask, following the curve of the road ahead. It winds and twists through big, tall trees-clearly not at the beach. 

 “I have a surprise for you.” He guides the car carefully through the dense trees before coming out onto a bluff overlooking the Georgian city below. 

 Clouds are barely wisps as they drifted lazily across the vast expanse of sky. It’s already turning colors as he parks and shuts off the car. He motions for you to stay where you are before climbing out and retrieving your blankets and pillows. 

 He spreads them out over the hood of his car and goes around to help you out. He makes sure you’re secure on the hood before climbing up and over you. He rolls over, pretending to squish you with an exaggerated groan before settling on his back and pulling you close. 

 “Bucky, this is perfect.” You mumble, snuggling closer.

 He hums quietly, fingers trailing down your arms. The sun sinks towards the horizon, turning the azure sky brilliant arrays of purples, reds and oranges. Your hand rests on his chest as you watch the sunset. 

 “How much longer until we get to the beach?” You ask quietly. 

 “Well, if we drive through the night, we can be there by morning.” He says thoughtfully. 

 You pick up your head and look at him, forehead wrinkling. “You can’t drive all night, too. Bucky, you’ve been driving all day! You’re exhausted, you’re not a machine, you know.” You tell him, getting all worked up. Your fist is curled into the front of his shirt.

 “Alright, doll. We’ll get a room here in town, get some actual dinner, and drive the rest of the way tomorrow morning.” He assures you, rubbing your wrist gently. 

 You relax your grip with a slow nod. “Good. You need sleep, too.” You mumble, resting back on his chest. 

 There’s no point, really, in him telling you that the only time he really sleeps is when you’re safe in his arms. It’s the only time he’s comfortable enough. 

 A strong wind blows across the bluff and you shudder in his arms. He pulls the second blanket up over you. You hum appreciatively, shifting closer. 

 “I love you.” He whispers, brushing your cheek.

 “I know, silly.” You reply easily as the sun inches closer to the skyline. 

 “You know?” He teases, tickling your sides and you shriek with laughter. “How do you know?”

 You grab his wrists, wrestling his arms over his head, he lets you win easily, and you straddle his hips. “I know, because why else would you drive through 8 states just to take me to a beach? Why else would you put up with my shitty memory and random tantrums? I know you love me because it shows in everything you do for me and in every way you touch me.” You bring his hands to your face and he cradles your cheeks gently. His thumb strokes your cheekbone and you lean into his touch. 

 “Of course, I know you love me. How could I not? Even on my worst days, you make sure I know you love me.” Your voice wobbles and he can see the tears in your eyes. His chest aches for you, swelling with unlimited affection for his girl.

 “C’mere.” He mutters, pulling you close and kissing you repeatedly before hugging you tight. You bury your face in his neck and he can feel you struggling not to cry.

 “My question is wh-...why do you love me? You know about my history; you were there when I found out. Why would you want me in the first place?” You mumble. 

 “Why wouldn’t I? You’re smart and funny, beautiful and I love the way you tease me. And despite your past and what happened to you, you’re still one of the kindest, sweetest, gentlest people I’ve ever met. The real question is how could I not fall in love with you?”

 “You’re such a sap.” You mumble, almost unintelligible. 

 “But, I’m your sap, right?” He smiles, shifting you back around to catch the last of the sunset. 

 “I guess, since I can’t get rid of you.” You sigh dramatically. 

 “Well, if that’s all it takes.” He grins. You settle into a comfortable silence as you both watch the city come to life. It gets darker and all of the lights come on, turning the scene vibrant. 

 You both stay there for a little while longer until you’re shivering nonstop, despite the blanket. 

 “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go find some food. What are you hungry for?” He asks, guiding you up. 

 “Burgers? I want fries.” You rub your eyes. 

 “Okay, baby. I can go for burgers, too.” He climbs off and lifts you down. Your hands trail down his chest slowly and his jaw twitches. Your fingers smooth down over his abs, slipping under his shirt. They’re icy against his skin; he should have made you leave earlier. You’re much too cold. 

 You make a noise in your throat, a mix between a hum and a moan. “So powerful.” You murmur, completely absorbed in your exploration of him. He remains perfectly still with some struggle because you’re driving him crazy and he just wants to take you here and now. So, he keeps his hands firmly at his sides instead of kissing you into next week.

 He closes his eyes to try and help his self-control. Your hands feel like heaven on his skin. 

 Suddenly, your hands are gone. “Let’s go get dinner.” You say, popping up on your toes and pecking his lips. 

 He opens his eyes and squints at you suspiciously. “You kill me.” He sighs, moving around to the passenger side and opening your door for you. 

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say innocently, trailing your fingers across his chest as you slide in. 

 “Wicked girl.” He groans, closing your door carefully. He gathers your pillows and blankets up, stuffing them in the back seat. He climbs in and starts the car. You roll the window down again and rest both arms on it, gazing out into the night. 

 “What are we getting to eat?” You ask as he turns the car around. 

 “Burgers and fries, doll.” He answers.

 “Oh, right. I remember.” You nod. He drives slowly through the dense trees, your arm sticks out, trailing through the low hanging leaves. “It’s so pretty out here.” You sigh.

 He drives into town, finding a little bar to pull into. It’s not too crowded, yet, just a handful of locals out for dinner. He parks and helps you out, lacing his hand with yours. He leads you inside and there’s a sign just inside to sit wherever you want. 

 “Go pick out a table.” He says, nudging you away. You pull on his hand until you’re too far apart and have to let go. He heads over to the bar to place your orders, leaning against the solid wood. 

 A big man sits next to him at the bar and Bucky glances over at you to make sure you’re okay. 

 “You’re a lucky man.” The big guy says after a minute. Bucky glances at him expectantly. “You two just walked in here and I can already tell she’s crazy about you.” He says with a fond smile. 

 Bucky inspects him closer and realizes he must be in his 50s or 60s, if the grey in his beard is anything to go by. “You can tell that?” He asks finally. 

 “She looks at you like you hung the moon. My Dot used to look at me like that.” He replies wistfully. “Ladies like them don’t come around too often. We gotta hold onto them when we find them. Treasure them.” His dark eyes turn misty and Bucky feels for him.

 “I’m sorry,” Bucky says sincerely. He can’t imagine his world without you in it. 

 “Just take my advice, kid. Don’t let a moment go by where she isn’t sure she knows how much you love her.” 

 Bucky nods thoughtfully and glances back at you. 

 “What can I get you?” The bartender asks. 

 Bucky places his orders and gestures to the table. The bartender turns away and Bucky looks at you again, fiddling with the condiments on the table.

 Bucky claps the man on the shoulder and makes his way back to you. Your entire face lights up as he sits next to you. He takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth. You adjust yourself, turning in your chair to face him, leaning your back against the table.

 “What are you thinking?” He asks.

 You run your fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his face before cupping the back of his neck, playing with the strands. “Your hair’s getting long again.” You smile, resting your cheek on your fist.

 “I should get it cut when we get back.” He says softly. You shake your head. “No?”

 “No. I like it like this. All soft and fluffy.” You grin, leaning in and kissing him.

 “Fluffy?” He repeats, scandalized.

 You laugh and nod, raking your fingers through it. “Fluffy. I like how it feels.”

 “Alright. I’ll keep it.” He agrees, leaning back out of the way as your food is set down.

 ***

“Doll? Did you wanna take a shower?” Bucky asks, coming out of the bathroom and toweling his hair dry. When he had gone in for his shower, you had been laughing, in a good mood. Now, you’re sitting on the bed, staring a hole into the wall with a blank face.

 He drops the towel and comes around the bed. “Y/N?” He starts, reaching out to cup your face gently. You don’t react, not a blink or even a flinch. He kneels in front of you and grasps your hands. He rubs his thumbs on the back of your hands and waits for you to blink.

 “Baby?” He says softly.

 Your face animates and you jerk your hands back, shoving back further onto the bed. Bucky holds up his hands to show you he’s not a threat, his heart hammering in his chest. You rub at your eyes, looking around confused.

 “Bucky?” You mumble.

 “I’m right here.” He answers, staying where he is.

 “I’m sorry.” You whisper.

 “Nothing to be sorry for, angel. What’s the matter?” He asks.

 “Are we going to be away for long?” You scoot back to the edge of the bed and rest your hands palm up on your knees.

 He carefully places his hands back in yours. “Not if you don’t want to be. We’re going to see the beach. If you don’t want to stay any longer, then we’ll turn right around and drive home.”

 You’re quiet for a long minute. “Do you think my apartment is okay?” You ask finally and he chuckles.

 “I’m sure it misses you.” He brushes his thumb along your cheekbone. “This place doesn’t feel like home, does it?” He says and you shake your head. “What do you need?”

 You shake your head, rubbing your eyes. “I’m okay.”

 “You know I’m gonna be right here with you.” He offers.

 “Bucky? Can we sleep in the car?” You ask timidly. “It’s just, it smells like you and it’s from home and I just think-“

 “Of course, we can. Let’s get the blankets so we can be warm, okay?” He stands up and starts pulling you to your feet. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, holding you tight. “We can make the back seat into a little fort.” He can feel you smile into his shoulder.

 “Like the tent you made me in my dining room.”

 “Just without the cool lights.” He smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Do you wanna take a shower while I get everything set up for us?” He asks, stepping back from you.

 “Okay.” He guides you to the bathroom and shutting the door. He gathers up all your blankets and pillows, carrying them out to the car, fitting them into the back seat, making it as cozy as possible. He makes sure to set the rest of the snacks in easy reach, before going into the lobby of the motel, making two cups of hot chocolate. He sets them in the front seat before going back into the room to wait for you.

 “I’m back, Y/N.” He calls through the door before lying on the bed. The door opens a few minutes later and you come out in a billow of steam.

 “Oh no.” You gasp and his eyes fly open in alarm. “There’s a handsome man in my bed.” You say and he groans.

 “Why are you like this?”

 You climb on the bed, sitting on his lap. “Because I love you. And picking on you is so much fun.”

 “Well, I guess I can allow it, then.” He grins, pulling you down to kiss him. 

 “You bet your sweet ass you will.” You smirk, pecking his lips once before sitting up and pulling off your shirt. 

 His mouth waters and he licks his lips to catch any drool because, sweet Christmas, you’re perfect. 

 ***

You pull your clothes back on and look over at Bucky, still laying in the bed, staring at the ceiling. A small smile plays at your lips and you toss a pillow on him. He grins, catching it ad holding it to his chest. 

 “Come on, Bucky.” You groan playfully. “You need to get some sleep.” 

 “Doll, do you even know how much I love you?” He sighs, sitting up and pulling you between his thighs. He wraps his arms around your legs and rests his face on your stomach. You try not to squeal, because you love when he holds you like this. 

 You play with his hair a moment before answering. “Of course, I do. I might have a shitty memory, but I’ll never forget that.” You promise, kissing the top of his head. 

 This man has done wonders for you. He was there when he found out your birth father had abused you at such a young age that blocking those memories out somehow cause memory damage. He held you the nights you couldn’t remember where you were. He made sure, always, that you knew you were safe with him. 

 No matter what, he was your safe place, your harbor in the storm. He protects you from everything and indulges in every stupid idea, like building a tent fort in your living room for those nights you can’t sleep and he’s not there, or sleeping in a car because it feels like home.

 You tilt his face up to meet his eyes, searching them. “Do you know how much I love you?” You counter and he nods. “Good. Let’s go get some sleep. We’re going to the beach in the morning.”

 He smiles and you lean down to kiss him. When you pull away, his eyes are still closed, like he’s in a dream. You wiggle out of his arms and grab your pajama pants, pulling them on. 

 When you’re both ready, he opens the door for you and leads you out to the car. He opens the back door and gestures for you to climb in. The backseat looks so cozy, so soft with pillows and blankets everywhere. It doesn’t even feel like a backseat anymore. You climb in and slide all the way over and he follows, shutting the door behind him. 

 “Bucky, this is amazing.” You mumble, curling against him. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, his whiskers tickling your skin.

 “I’m glad you like it, baby.” He says softly. 

 “What did I do to deserve you?” You sigh happily. 

 He chuckles. “Who knows, probably something horrible.” He teases.

 You poke his side. “You stop that right now.”

 He laughs. “Alright, alright.” He shifts you to a more comfortable position as he plays with your hair. He covers you with your blanket and hums softly. 

 You relax into him, melting into a sleepy puddle. He has you asleep in minutes, his hands gentle on your hair. 

 “I love you.” You mumble, slipping deep into sleep.

 “I love you, too.” He replies softly. 

 ***

 “Baby, wake up.” Bucky says gently, rousing you from your sleep. 

 “What is it?” You mumble, rubbing your eyes. It’s still dark outside, but not pitch black, you notice. 

 “Come on, sweetheart. I wanna show you something.” He opens the back door for you and holds his hand out. 

 You sit up, looking around and it dawns on you that he was already out of the back seat. “Where are we?” You accept his hand and he helps you out of the car. You shiver now that you’re out of your blanket cocoon. 

 He wraps his coat around you and pulls you against him. “I wanted you to see the sunrise.” He says quietly into your hair. 

 You look around, realizing that you’re no longer in the parking lot of the motel. “Bucky, you didn’t!” You gasp, looking back at him. 

 “Of course I did.” He smiles, grabbing your blanket and taking your hand. “Come on.” He leads you over the curb and onto the beach. 

 The sand is so soft on your bare feet, squishing between your toes. “You drove all night.” You grumble, taking his hand.

 “This is important. I can sleep later.” He shrugs, approaching the edge of the wet sand and spreading out the blanket. “We can watch the sunrise, and there’s a great restaurant right down the beach where we can get breakfast and then we can come back and collect seashells all day long.” He says and you have to admit, doing all of that with him sounds absolutely perfect. 

 “Fine. Twist my arm.” You sigh, spreading out on the blanket. He laughs and drops next to you.

 “I know, this is so terrible.” He nudges your side. You lean against him, watching the waves and feeling the breeze. 

 You don’t have to wait long for the sky to lighten. The sun is rising from behind you, but it’s still beautiful to see the bright, clear blue of the water come to life in front of your eyes. 

 “Wow.” You breathe. “It’s beautiful.” 

 “Yeah, you are.” He agrees and you look up to find him staring at you. In his hand is a small box. He sets it carefully in your palm, and you can see his hands are shaking. His always steady hands, he’s never nervous or afraid. 

 “Y/N. I have loved you since the moment I met you. You’ve made my life richer, and you’ve made me want to be a better man. You’re the most important person in my life and I can’t imagine not spending the rest of it with you. Please, please say you’ll marry me?” He asks earnestly, just as the sky turns a brilliant blue. 

 “Bucky, of course, I will.” You whisper, twisting to face him, throwing your arms around his neck. “Of course!”

 The sun rises over your first time to the beach with the love of your life and the happiest day ever.

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[stonecoldjerseyfox]

Jersey on my mind (part 30)

“It’s gonna be a great day.” 

Daryl turns his head from the robin, sitting on the ridge of a roof, further away and that he’s been fixing his gaze on for the past half an hour and observes Rick. His friend lets down his shoulders and relaxes his spine, takes a deep breath and lets himself take in the silent calmness of the morning surrounding them. He’s right. It’s gonna be a beautiful day. 

The breeze hasn’t even bothered to wake up today. It’s the two of them, the robin, who sings his morning song, to announce that a new day has begun, and the walkers. 

“Yeah.” 

“Gotta continue working on the wall.” Rick proclaims, as if to create a to-do list in his head of today’s chores. “Check blueprints, find materials. Gotta go on a run.”

“Great.” Daryl replies and nods at Rick. He’ll get to go, he knows it, and he doesn’t mind. As if he were a tame fox, who no matter how domestic it may seem, constantly needs a certain degree of freedom and nature. But he doesn’t mind returning back here either. Not anymore. “I’ll go.” He continues. “Just tell me whatcha’ need.”

“Yep.” Rick takes another deep breath. “What a day.” 

His sudden discovery of nature, the surroundings and an overbearing serenity hasn’t sprung from nothing. He watched by Carl’s side for days. Didn’t sleep, didn’t eat properly, not until Carl sat up in bed and ate himself. The eye was completely destroyed and had to be removed. Thanks to Denise, Rosita, Tara and Mila, who, thanks to her previous profession as a dental nurse, knew how to sterilize scalpels and tools, as well as use sedatives and anesthetics. Thanks to their care, Carl got better, as did Rick. 

“What time is it?” Rick says. “Seven, or eight?”

“Prolly.” Daryl looks at the sun. He watched it rise, heard the birds wake up. Rick joined him shortly after. “Early.” 

“Ya’ wanna go back to the house?” Rick asks. “Get some rest?” 

“Nah.” 

Rick fixates him with his gaze, very ‘nice cop’-like, yet friendly and somewhat cheeky. 

“When I first met Lori-” Rick says, then smiles faintly, chuckles. “Boy, I was- Couldn’t eat properly. Couldn’t sleep. Like I went around in a haze and just thought ‘bout her.”

Daryl nods a little, smiles very faintly, but inside of his chest, his heart takes a skip. 

Has it been two days, forty-eight hours ago he went downstairs holding hands with Jersey when everyone was eating breakfast at the big table? 

After their escapade in the shower, resulting in soaking clothes that had to sundry at the porch roof, they stayed in the bedroom for the entire day. Juri wasn’t in bed when they came out from the bathroom, holding their soaking wet clothes. The smell of breakfast toasts was enough for Mila to understand that Juri was downstairs. Daryl left late in the afternoon, to join a group that has started to create a temporary barricade at the broken wall. Carol brought a late dinner to the working group. 

“How strange, I think I saw these particular clothes sunbathing on the porch roof earlier.” She said cheekily and bumped his hip, while he took a bite of a sandwich.

“Shut up.” Daryl scoffed softly. 

“Pookie.” Carol grinned and shook her head.

He returned late and when he entered the bedroom again, both Mila and Juri were asleep, spooning each other on the bed surrounded by books, soft toys and cassette tapes. He sat down in the comfortable chair, didn’t feel like waking ‘em up by laying down next to them, where he fell asleep. 

Their presence downstairs the morning after that was a silent, visual proclamation that yeah, it was the two of ‘em now’. Or the three of them, including the kid wedged at Mila’s hip in his pajamas, barely awake, but determined to not skip breakfast. Daryl’s heart pounded harder than ever in his chest as they settled on the ground floor, next to each other in front of the entire Atlanta group at the table. Harder than when he stood in the yard as a child and saw the house, his home, burn down to the ground with his mother in it. But it was different. As if his chest was flooded with a warm, deep sense of pride, a sense of belonging. The group hadn’t, thankfully, made a big scene of the silent announcement, which was as big of a deal to him as if he’d announced he’d become the president of the whole damn united states of whatever. It was clear to him, when they sat down at the table, set with pancakes and toast, that the others had already put two and two together. Was it Carol who blabbed, or was it by any chance Rick? Anyway they took it without any fuss. Thankfully. He’d never pull through such a questioning. 

But Rick’s right, to some extent. He’s been in a constant haze for awhile now. He can’t put his finger on when the haze was inevitable, must’ve been during their walk to the gas station, but might just as well be earlier. She had a special impact on him from the start. Those blue, piercing eyes looking at him over the barrel of the gun after they’d saved him and Aaron. He can’t get enough of ‘em. 

“Guess ya’ right.” He therefore says. Why would he lie? Apparently they’re the talk of the town now anyway. Jeez. As if the townies don’t have else to talk about? 

“That hurricane of- I dunno, feelings. They’re good. Validation that everything’s just- perfect.” Rick says and by doing so, puts his finger on something Daryl have felt some kind of guilt for, not always, fuck no. 

But it’s a feeling he struggles with from time to time, if just for a second or a minute. He’s not good for her, or more correctly; not good enough. But that feeling’s swept away as soon as he notices her looking at him. The blue eyes smiling at him, as a lagoon of homeliness and deep affection. 

“Never done this before.” Daryl says husky. 

“No one has.” Rick replies while looking at the robin. “There’s a first for everyone. Ya’ just- gets a hang of your own mind. The rest goes by itself.” He makes a movement, and gets up from the boards. “I’ll go get some water.” He announces. 

Rick climbs down the ladder and Daryl looks after him as he strides over to the store. He smiles faintly to himself, lets his experienced gaze wander slow and steady over the closest surroundings at the other side of the makeshift wall. A few walkers have miraculously managed to remain on the site since they made a raid and eliminated most, after the great battle. One of them seems to have ended up in a loop; over and over again it crashes into the hood of an abandoned pickup, whose tires have almost grown stuck in the asphalt, which has been taken over, slow and steady, by mother nature. 

A soft tapping on wood gets his attention. He turns his head, and happens to see something at the lower end of the ladder.  

“Mornin’.” He greets Juri, who’s small, soft hands squeezes the second step of the hard, wooden ladder. “Wanna come up, kiddo?”

Without hesitating, Juri climbs the tall ladder, with the walkman in his pocket and the headphones around his neck. The big blue eyes are determined, curious. Almost at the top of the ladder, Daryl grabs the boy by his armpits and lifts him up to the platform. The three and a half year old is an early riser and has managed to dress himself this morning too, except the shoes that Juri wiggles in front of Daryl, to tie for him.

“Ya’ gotta learn to do this on ye’re own someday, kiddo.” Daryl says and ties the tiny Chuck Taylors.

A small index finger is pointed right at him. Juri looks at him with a clever grin, as to say: ‘Well, until then, you’re doing it for me’. Yeah, that’s probably true. Daryl lets out a faint chuckle. Being bossed around by a kid is something new. 

“Ya’ mom’s asleep?”

Juri nods. Daryl smiles. Before he left the night before to join Abraham at the watchtower he checked in on Mila and Juri. Juri was tucked in for bed and Mila had curled up next to him, supported by at least four pillows, with two books about bunnies in her lap; The Velveteen Rabbit and The Naughty Bunny. 

“See ya’ in the mornin’.” Daryl said, stroking Mila’s hair. “Night, kiddo.”

The smile he received from Juri, all wrapped up under the covers with his soft toys was priceless and also followed by a thrown, open-palm kiss.  

Juri settles down next to him on the platform. He’s dressed in a pair of rust colored dungarees with a black jumper underneath. On top he wears a flannel to shield himself from the still awakening sunlight, looking very proper. The blonde hair looks half combed, as if he got tired with trying and decided to leave it be. He fiddles on the walkman, while peering out over the wall with squinting eyes.  

“Ya’ had breakfast?” Daryl asks. 

Juri doesn’t answer, obviously, but he puts his hand in the front chest pocket of the dungarees and pulls something from it. A pack of two Reese’s cups. Daryl grins. 

“Ya’ mom won’t like that.” He says, but gets an authoritarian index finger in front of the mouth, followed by a ‘shhh’ from the boy; ‘I won’t tell if you don’t tell’. “Go ahead, kiddo.” Daryl therefore says.

He watches as Juri peels the packaging open and takes out a peanut butter cup and hands it to him. They eat the chocolate-peanutty-goodies under silence. He’s amazed at the little boy, who seems to have the intellect and the ability to think like a child who is twice as old. Mila hasn’t coddled him, except smothered him with infinite amounts of motherly love, no doubt ‘bout that, but he can dress himself, make decisions on his own. He’s curious rather than scared and calculating rather than impulsive. He likes to collect stones, feathers and sticks, picks flowers, investigates bugs and likes to draw and listen to music while jumping on the bed or running around in the streets. And Daryl adores him. He’s a great kid. 

“Whatcha’ listen to?” Daryl nods at the walkman between the small hands. 

Juri removes the headphones from around his neck. He holds them up in his right hand as he pushes the ‘play’-button and turns the small ‘plus’-volume button on the side of the device, increasing the volume, leaking an old rock song. 

“Sounds great.” 

Juri gesticulates with his hands. It makes him feel both dumb and sad over the fact that he actually can’t understand the kid. Not that it stops Juri from trying, but he can’t understand no matter how many times he repeats his gestures.

“Sorry kiddo.”

The kiddo ain’t let down that easily. He opens the walkman, takes out the tape and shows him. Daryl reads ‘Boston - Boston, 1979’, written in black marker at the thin line on the orange paper label at the black plastic tape. 

“Okay, here we go-” Rick appears at the edge of the platform, but pauses and bursts into a wide grin at the sight of Juri. “Hey, little guy.”

Juri waves at Rick as he climbs up and sits down at his left side. 

“Here-” Rick hands Daryl the bottled water and then looks at Juri. “You’re up early.”

The blonde boy nods proudly, as to say ‘yup, before my mom’. Daryl unscrews the cap from the plastic bottle and offers it to Juri. He takes it and takes two small sips, before handing it back and continuing to look out over the wall. But soon the little nose begins to search in the air. Daryl and Rick can smell it too; breakfast. Toasts and waffles.

“Ya hungry?” Rick asks Juri. Juri turns and peers up at Daryl, as if he had an answer for it. He then turns back to Rick, and shakes his head. “We’ll be replaced soon. Then we’ll eat.” Rick says, very dad-like. Authoritarian but still nice. 

Juri nods and returns to his walkman, puts the headphones over his blonde hair and disappears into his own world of Boston, 1979. Daryl looks down at the toddler sitting between him and Rick, nodding his head to the beat of the music, so carefree and at ease. He looks so much like Mila, except the blonde hair. But his constant cool is something else, a hybrid between Mila and whoever the man who biologically is his father. Mila’s a hothead by blood, with impressive self-control. Like the calmest water which in an instant can blow up into a raging storm. Juri, on the other hand, is calmness personified whatever the situation. Maybe because he relies on Mila entirely. He never has to be scared or worried.  

“Now, that’s a sight for sore eyes.” 

Daryl’s interrupted in his thoughts. He turns and looks over his left shoulder. Carol is standing on the ground, shielding her eyes from the sun, smiling up at the three of them. Juri waves happily down at her with a proud smile on his lips. He’s with the big boys now.  

“Hi, darling.” Carol waves at him before turning her eyes to Daryl. “Ya’ boys hungry?” Juri sniffs in the air and nods. “There’s honey and waffles for you, darling.” Carol smiles at the blonde boy. “What about you two?” 

“Sounds great.” Rick says. “We’ll be replaced soon.”

“Great.” Carol replies. “You’ve been up there all night.” She continues. “We’re planning a barbeque tonight. Why don’t you get some venison later?” 

I’ll be damn Carol, Daryl thinks to himself with a faint, but thankful smile. More things to do today, except collecting materials for the wall. 

“Sure.” He calls back at her. 

“I’ll thank you later, when you’re back with some meat.” She replies in a cheeky smile. “I’ll bring you three something to eat before you leave if you’d like?”

“Set up three more plates.” Rick says. “We’re done here soon.”

Carol nods smilingly, turns and starts walking back towards the houses. Daryl and Rick look at each other. Huh, a barbecue.  

“Could be fun.” Rick says. “Gotta chop some wood then. You wanna help?” He looks at Juri, who nods eagerly with the headphones around his neck again, excited to help out with grown-up stuff. “Great. We’ll start right away, after we’d had something to eat.”

Juri nods and looks at the two men on each side of him, rubbing his tummy, showing them that now he’s hungry. Especially when there’s waffles. He then gets up on his knees and, without warning, climbs into Daryl’s lap. The small hands start to fiddle with his vest, then with the cord of the headphones. Daryl doesn’t tense, but he becomes instantly aware of his body, as if a baby deer had climbed into his lap; he can’t scare him away. But Juri’s calm and relaxed. In the corner of his eye, Daryl sees Rick smile. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’.” Rick says and blinks. “Just, everything’s kinda fine, right?”

Daryl turns his gaze from Rick and looks down at Juri, who meets his gaze and smiles sunny, then out over the area on the other side of the safe-zone, contemplating his friend’s words. Yeah, he thinks. Things are actually kinda perfect. Fuckin’ hell, he feels great. Everything’s calm. No breaches and no herd of walkers approaching. There’s a three and a half-year old in his lap that looks at him like- yeah Daryl can’t figure that one out. But he seems happy. And there’s Mila, probably half awake by now, back at the house. Holy shit, he’s got his shit together at last. 

“Guess ya’ right.” Daryl replies.

“Yep.” Rick says, also turning his head out over the surroundings. “I’m happy for ya’.” He sighs. “It’ll be fun. Barbecue. Bonfire. The only thing’s missing is a harmonica, or a guitar.” Rick turns his head to look at him. “Ya’ play?”

“What? Guitar?” Daryl shakes his head. “Nah.”

But a faint smile spreads upon Daryl’s lips as an idea forms inside his head, accompanied by the muffled sound from Juri’s headphones, which leaks a guitar solo. Nah, he ain’t playing. But he knows someone who might. Inside his head, he adds another task to his mental to do-list.

Taglist: @lonewolf471 @twdeadfanfic

[amusement-spark]

Busch Gardens Tampa part 5: miscellaneous!

On my most recent visit to BG, I did not ride any rides. I just used the opportunity to enjoy the Florida air, and experience a lot of what BG has to offer besides thrills. I will make a separate post about all the animals. This post will be dedicated to all the random other stuff that doesn't fit neatly another category, as well as some other thoughts I had on this recent trip.

Currently Busch Gardens has three performances throughout the day. I have only had the chance to experience one, Cirque Electric. This dance/stunt show is in the Stanleyville theater over by Tigris and runs every couple hours starting at 3.

The first thing I noticed about the show was it's unique aesthetic. The stage is decorated with gears and other items to build a fun neon steampunk look to the show. The costumes also carry this feel, somewhere between burlesque and Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland. Be aware, there is use of intense lighting effects as well as smoke machines. All the technical aspects of the show, lighting, costuming, sound, etc, are really fun. Arguably it doesn't go with the aesthetic of the park itself, but works as a change of pace from the sometimes generic ruins and buildings of the rest of the park.

The performance itself is a series of circus type stunt acts with dances in between as the transitions. The dances were quick routines, never more than 1 or 2 minutes, but nevertheless had unique costumes for each one, as well as the occasional extra showpiece. The dancers kept the energy going while the stunt performers were setting up for their next thing. You have roller skating, intense balancing, some chair based acrobatics, and a couple other surprises. Sometimes it felt like a mid-tier circus, other times I felt like I was at a particularly nice Ren faire. The final stunt act in particular. Anyone who has been to the Bay Area Ren Fair will likely know what I mean. The performers themselves were all great at managing the crowd and getting well earned applause. It really felt like they were having a lot of fun, even though a couple of the stunts felt just a tad under rehearsed. Possibly part of the showmanship. Still, Cirque Electric is a lot of fun, and a great excuse to get out of the sun for half an hour. If you're wandering Busch Gardens after lunch and need time to digest before your next thrill, check them out. Cirque Electric gets 4/5.

One major aspect of the park that I had not experienced until this most recent trip is the train ride, the Serengeti Express. Currently they only have two of the four train stations open, and since the Skyride is closed, the train is your only way to get around the park while resting your feet. Quick tip, pay attention to the signs that tell you when the next train is arriving. It can hold quite a few passengers, so you don't need to worry about getting there particularly early to ensure a spot on the next train.

The two stations currently operating are Stanleyville, right beside SheiKra, and Nairobi, near the Myobi Reserve and the penguins. Both trips take out around the inside of the park as well as out into the Serengeti area. If you want to spend a but more time out with the animals, I suggest taking the Nairobi station train. However, at least for the time being, you can always get on at one station and ride it until you get back to where you started if you want to see everything.

I'm not gonna lie, the train is kinda magical. The stations themselves have plenty of decorations to evoke an early 20th century adventure, and the train itself is outfitted with old fashioned lanterns. When you're far into the Serengeti, for a moment you can easily forget Tampa, Florida and experience the Safari for what it is. I'm not sure if it's the real train whistle and railroad crossing signs or the fact that that the employees have to wave you off as you embark, but the Stanleyville express is just wonderful. Seeing the rides and everything from a different angle really helps me appreciate all the effort that goes into designing a park like this. Trying to maintain a single theme throughout an entire park is difficult, and the train ride is the perfect way to experience some of the little touches. I'll touch more on the animals themselves in my next post but rest assured, seeing the antelopes and giraffes from the train is one of the best experiences in the park that comes with the price of admission. The Serengeti Express gets a 5/5. I guess I just like trains

The final thing I'm going to touch on here is the Giraffe Bar. Located right beside Cheetah Hunt, and up a whole lotta stairs, you will find, for the time being, the classiest eatery in Busch Gardens. In the same lobby as the Giraffe Bar is the Oasis Pizza, which looks decent, though I haven’t been hungry enough to try it yet. Coming soon they also have the Treetop Kitchen The ambiance of this area is a welcome change of pace. Even the long line felt surprisingly calm.

The Giraffe Bar was quite a few specialty alcohol options. Three frozen cocktails, three on tap, and two curated beer flights. Prices are what you would expect from amusement park alcohol, but on a hot day, a frozen cocktail is more than welcome. I personally tried to Serengeti Sunrise, a fruity rum drink with a orange wedge and strawberry for garnish. As far as ten dollar cocktails go, I've had worse. It was certainly refreshing. Next time I visit I am tempted to try the Thorn & Berry, a whiskey cocktail on tap. A couple of the spirits they use here are from conservation efforts, and presumably these drinks help support those funds. They all sound pretty tasty as well, and a step above the frozen strawberry daiquiri and margaritas you can find at other locations in the park. Bonus note: in order to cut down on single use plastics, the straws for the frozen cocktails are edible. Imagine sucking down rum with a long hollowed Smartie. Pretty dang tasty if you have a sweet tooth like me.

The Giraffe Bar also has three food options meant as small snacks, and not a meal. These were the Giraffe shaped pretzel with beer cheese, a brisket truffle Mac and cheese, and hummus with pita. I tried to pretzel. It's not much to write home about. I was especially disappointed with the beer cheese. Like, you're owned by Budweiser, Busch Gardens. Up your beer game. If you need some carbs, go for it. As expected, a bit pricey but if you're sharing (and have that sweet pass holders discount) not a bad option for an afternoon munch.

The outdoor seating is nice. The Serengeti isnt quite as visible as I would like, but maybe I was just at a bad table. I'll have to go back some time and try different drinks. Oh no, what a travesty. Giraffe Bar gets a 3.5/5. That extra half point was because some birds were chilling on the terrace looking for food and one of them almost went inside. What a cutie. I love birds.

Side note mini review: as part of the Summer Nights event, some of the vendors have new desserts and drink specials. I tried to beignets, nice and soft, and am dying to try the “Churro Explosion” that comes with a bunch of different flavored sauces. Fried pastry gets a 5/5 any day of the week.

Just in 2021, I have already visited Busch Gardens Tampa 4 times. I am still finding new things to experience and enjoy, all included with the price of my annual pass (except for food, obvi). It seems to me that they are always trying to shake things up, especially with drinks and snacks. I just think it’s a really nice park. Later this week I will have my review of the various animal enclosures and experiences. Happy Summer!

[happybeeps-nat]

header by @ao3commentoftheday​

Alternate chapter 2 for You Look So Alive words: 3,401 (yep, I never ended up using them. I’m the worst) context: picks up right after Finn and Poe separated in chapter 1, Pe goes home with Bee-Bee A/N: this is for @imtheoutgoingsidekick-baby​, completely unedited, I didn’t even read through it again before posting so I’m sorry lmao please bear in mind that there’s a reason I abandoned this

“Pa, we’re back,” Poe called as he pulled off his shoes and put his keys in the little bowl like the responsible adult he almost was. He followed Bee to free her from the harness and lead and stashed them in their rightful place.

“I’m in the kitchen,” his dad called back, followed by the distinctive clatter of him obviously trying to sort through their mess of pans.

Poe looked at the clock above the door. It was only 5:17. Wasn’t it a bit early for dinner? He decided to go see what his dad was up to.

And really, there he was, several pots and pans on the stove, apparently trying to figure out what pan to use for whatever he had planned next.

“Hey,” he greeted. “Are we expecting guests?”

His dad nodded while stirring something that smelled like his dad’s famous chili, then moved to chop veggies before checking the oven. “Yeah, turns out we are. Leia and Han are coming over for dinner.” He sounded tense, even pissed, and Poe was massively confused. Leia, Han and his dad were like Snap, Jess and he. Best friends and always up to spending time together even though their schedules didn’t align as often as they’d like.

“Is that not a good thing,” asked Poe, frowning.

“Oh, it is. Let me just--“ he stirred the pot some more before grabbing a fresh spoon and checking if he was satisfied with the taste. Then he took another spoon and put it in the pot right next to it and offered it to Poe. “Try this, this is the one for you and whoever else is veggie or vegan.”

Poe did. It was delicious. As always when Kes Dameron cooked, which was almost every day under Poe’s watchful eyes so he could learn some tricks. “Mmmh,” he nodded. “Very good. And it’s vegan, yeah?” Poe was a bit confused there, he wasn’t vegan and neither were Han or Leia.

“Yeah, don’t know everyone’s dietary preferences, so I though better safe than sorry.”

“Everyones? Paps, what’s going on? Who’s coming for dinner?”

Kes looked at the clock, turned down the heat on the two pots and oven to pull out a bunch of self-made tortillas. They always put them in the oven twice but not too long or they’s get too dry. Really, his dad cooking was more of a science than anything else and Poe usually liked to watch him be very concentrated. Now, though, he wanted answers.

Kes closed the oven and finally turned to look at his son, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He looked Poe up and down and frowned slightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Poe dismissed. “So, what’s happening? What was it with the phone call earlier? Why are you preparing dinner for, like, ten people?”

“Leia called me earlier,” his dad began to explain, turning back around to check if everything was okay, if the heat was off and if it was safe to leave the kitchen. Then he gestured for Poe to follow him into the living room where Bee-Bee was excited to see them but didn’t move from her place on the couch, pretty sure that Poe would come to her. And he did. He was easy like that.

“So, Leia called,” Poe reminded his dad, hoping he would keep going.

He nodded. “She told me Luke was back.”

“Luke?” Poe frowned. “Wait, you mean… uncle Luke? Leia’s brother? He’s still alive?” He felt incredibly stupid to be asking that, because obviously he was still alive, man. It’s just that for years nobody had seen him or heard of him. “It must be, like, what? Ten years?”

“Eleven,” his dad sighed and ran a hand down his face. “He didn’t call, didn’t leave a text or a note. Just disappeared on us and comes back eleven years later, apparently with the brightest smile on his face and two kids in tow.”

“Excuse me?” Surely, that was a joke.

“Yeah. Apparently, he decided to adopt. Because apparently, he can do that now.”

Poe didn’t know what to say but also didn’t feel the right to judge Luke. He had last seen him when he was seven, right after… well. Right after his mother died. He took a deep breath and really, really didn’t want to judge Luke.

“So he has two little kids now, lives here again, and they’re all gonna come here for dinner to have an awkward and possibly bitter family reunion?” he clarified.

“Yup, seems like it. Leia wanted neutral ground. She doesn’t know me if she thinks I’m neutral ground for Luke fucking Skywalker.” The bitterness in his voice, the barely suppressed anger kind of broke Poe’s heart a bit because he knew where it was coming from.

“Paps, hey. Maybe he can explain.” Poe moved to sit beside his old man, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “Let’s just see what happens, okay? Maybe it won’t be too bad. And if it does get bad, this is your house, feel free to kick him out whenever you want to.”

At that, his dad grinned. “You’re right, I’ll just be a real Dameron and kick his ass if I smell funny business.”

“That’s the spirit,” Poe laughed.

After a while, his dad added, “They’re not little kids, though.”

“They’re not?”

Kes shook his head. “From what Leia told me, they’re your age.” He shrugged. “But I guess we’ll see anyway, he’s bringing them along.”

Yeah, that made sense… Poe didn’t really know how to feel about everything he’d just learned. But he tried to be open to anything, maybe Luke was this really cool and outgoing and charming guy and the adults would forget all about being mad at him. And maybe his kids were cool, too, and they’d all be having a good time.

Speaking of a good time! “Hey, is it still cool if Jess and Snap are coming?”

Kes grinned and got up. “Sure, I’ll make some more churros then.”

Poe laughed and stood as well, stretching his back with a groan. He found his dad looking at him, his head tilted, squinting a little.

“Poe. You sure you’re okay? You look beat.” Hah. The irony.

“I’m fine, paps, really. Just tired. And I really wanna go out and cuddle with Bee in the garden for a while. Call me when you need help in the kitchen or wherever?”

“Will do. Call me when you wanna talk about it?”

Poe huffed a laugh but nodded. “Will do. Thanks, paps.”

And as much as he wanted to go lie in the grass with his dog and not be a person for a few minutes, what he needed right now was a hug. So he went in for one, wrapped his arms lightly around his old man and felt him hug back tightly, making Poe tighten his arms, too. Dameron men were always down for hugs and Poe loved it, especially now. His dad was just a few inches taller than him but it always made him feel like he was just a little boy being held safely in his dad’s arms. Nothing could get to him here, nothing could hurt him here, not even Ben Solo. It was weird, it was probably stupid to be feeling that way about his father’s hugs at 18, but he didn’t particularly care about that. Society telling him it was stupid would probably only be one more reason for him to hug his dad, so there was that.

After a while, they let go of each other and Kes gave him a sort of bittersweet “I am your father and I love you but I am worried about you, son”-smile before returning to the kitchen.

“C’mon, Bee, let’s go outside and lie in the sun for a while,” Poe said to his already very excited dog. She yapped and seemed very happy at the prospect of just lying in the sun and getting all the scratches and belly rubs from Poe.

And so they lay there in the warm, soft grass. Poe on his back with his eyes closed, Bee-Bee next to him, her head on his chest, enjoying his gentle strokes and scratches. Lots of people didn’t think dogs could purr but Bee-Bee was ready to prove them wrong as she was practically vibrating, and Poe just loved her a lot, okay.

He was feeling calmer by the minute, breathing slowly and evenly, his eyes closed against the world and feeling safe again. Sometimes he was pretty sure his dad was watching them through the glass door leading to the garden but he was too comfortable to move and see if the was right, trusting his dad would call for him if he needed help.

After a while – it could have been an hour or five minutes, Poe didn’t know and he was pretty sure he nodded off once or twice – he did call, asking if he could prepare the table outside because there was more room in their garden than anywhere else in the house. A delicious smell tickled his nose which definitely made getting up easier. As he stood, so did his loyal, wonderful dog, looking up expectantly, and he smiled.

“Stay, Bee, I’m gonna be right back.” Before he went inside, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her head and scratched behind her ear again. “Good girl,” he cooed when she returned to lying in the grass, her watchful eyes never leaving him.

Poe went to wipe down the table and chairs before getting the cushions to make them more comfortable for their guests. “Paps, how many people are we gonna be?”

“When are Jess and Temmin coming again?”

“Not until after dinner, you know them,” he called back from where he was fastening the cushions.

“Then it’s Leia, Han, Luke and his kids, you and me. That makes seven.”

“So Ben is not coming?” Poe asked just to be sure.

“Is he ever?” his dad grumbled, and Poe could not answer from the sheer relief he felt. Ben was not coming. He was probably out bullying another kid who wasn’t white, rich and hetero. Idiot Nazi piece of shit.

“Poe?” his dad called again.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you could help me set the table, the plates are already on the counter.”

“Yeah, sorry, that one chair gave me trouble,” he tried to deflect from his actual thoughts.

Thankfully his dad did not press and either chose to ignore him or really had more pressing matters to attend to in the kitchen.

Before long, Poe had set the table, prepared the other chairs so they would be clean, warm and comfortable, and helped his dad chop the rest of the vegetables into small bits for the burritos they were going to have for dinner.

6:30 came sooner than either of them had expected and just as the clock went from 29 to 30 the doorbell rang. Wow, someone sure loved being exactly on time.

“I’ll get it, can you put the tortillas in the oven again, por favor?” Kes said, wiping his hands on a towel and greeting their guests. Poe hoped his dad opening the door and dealing with the first inevitable awkwardness would lighten up the whole situation a little. So stayed back happily, preparing the tortillas and checking if the salsa and kidney-bean mix in the pots was warm enough, careful not to let it get too hot.

He could hear his dad and their guests, obviously, their house was not exactly spacious. Leia and Han were there and had apparently brought a bottle of wine that was way too expensive, so his dad made a fuss that Leia chose to ignore. And then there were other voices, strange voices that struck him as familiar in a very weird way. Must be Luke then. It made sense for his voice to be strange yet familiar, it had been eleven years after all.

They hadn’t really moved into the house yet but stayed in the hallway, probably still by the door, and Poe if Poe weren’t surrounded by delicious food, he’d think he could smell the awkwardness in the air. It was very unlike Kes Dameron to let any kind of awkwardness last more than two seconds, and this situation was a testament to how much Like Skywalker seemed to unnerve him. And Han and Leia, too, since nobody spoke for a while.

Well, couldn’t have that! ���Dinner’s almost ready! Paps, get our guests something to drink and go outside, I’ve got this!”

That seemed to do the trick. There was a bustle as Kes led everyone outside and asked for their drink orders. After all, he took a Dameron Dinner very seriously, even though it was a very common occurrence. His dad was a picture-perfect people person. And Poe apparently into alliterations. Huh.

Poe took the tortillas out of the oven and covered the plate so they would stay warm, and filled the contents from the pots into bowls. He balanced the two plates of tortillas on one arm and grabbed one bowl of salsa-mix to bring them outside while his dad carried a tray with drinks after him.

He greeted their guests with a charming smile but concentrated on not being an idiot and dropping anything. “Good evening, everyone. I’m Poe, I’m your server tonight,” he joked as he set down the dishes. “Let me just get the rest and I’ll be all yours,” he added before he disappeared again.

He grabbed the last bowls and something to drink for himself before heading out again to properly greet everyone.

This time, he nearly did drop something. Because there, sitting next to who must have been Luke his daughter – a very beautiful girl – sat the boy. His boy. The boy who saved him!

“Poe?” his dad asked, a concerned frown on his face and Poe realised he had stopped in his tracks. In the door. And he was staring. At the boy. The beautiful boy who was looking at his plate and didn’t look like he wanted to be around a bunch of strangers in a stranger’s house.

“Yeah, sorry, hi everyone!” he grinned and set down the last bowl. Then he moved to Leia, greeting her first with a quick hug that could have been awkward for anyone who was not Poe Dameron, Master Of Hugs.

“Hello, Poe, so nice to see you again,” she smiled up at him from where she was sitting in her chair.

“You say that now,” he winked. “Just wait until tomorrow, you’ll wish you wouldn’t be seeing me all that often, General.”

She swatted at him and rolled her eyes. “Just keep out of my office a little more than last year, Dameron, I swear to God!”

Poe laughed. “No promises, ma’am.” Then he moved on to Han who gave him an eyeroll and a handshake, which was their usual greeting. Sometimes Poe thought Han didn’t really like him, but they had their moments. He’d figured a while ago that Han was just a grumpy and cynical person in general.

Then he reached Luke who actually got up again to greet him. Or he thought he did. But Luke was just staring at him. “You’ve really grown up, hm?” was all he said, awe in his eyes, realisation, and maybe something a little sadder.

Before Poe could say something, he heard his dad clear his throat and mutter something but he didn’t quite catch it. He ignored him and smiled at Luke, willing to give the man a chance.

“Well, you’d think that, but in here,” he tapped his temple, “I’m still that little boy that gets himself in trouble. So if I were you, I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”

Luke grinned, then laughed which sounded a lot like relief and pulled Poe into a hug that he reciprocated gladly. He didn’t seem so bad – he laughed at Poe’s jokes after all.

“I’m Rey,” the girl sitting beside Luke said and raised her hand, clearly expecting him to shake it. So he did.

“Poe. Nice to meet you, Rey. I love your hair,” he remarked and while he usually tried to make strangers more comfortable by complimenting them, he really absolutely did love her hair. Three buns of exactly the same size, it seemed.

She grinned and blushed a little, taking her hand back more slowly than she had reached out. “Thank you, Poe,” she said and she really sounded flattered and happier, less tense than just a second before.

And then he moved on. To the boy who was not just in Poe’s garden right after meeting him in a less than flattering situation! Nope, Poe must be dreaming or something. He fell asleep earlier and this was a dream, because the boy was now looking up at him, an eyebrow raised, and a little smile on his face.

“And you are?” Poe asked with an air of what he hoped was nonchalance, smiling politely at the beautiful boy and his big dark eyes.

“Finn,” he answered, very amused or intrigued or shocked or maybe all of the above.

“Poe, hi.”

“Hi, Poe. Nice to meet you,” he grinned and Poe actually felt heat rise in his cheeks. This was not happening! He couldn’t decide if he wanted to be happy or embarrassed or curious or all of the above. And he was staring at the boy, a grin plastered on his face, and Finn was staring at him, too, a very similar grin dancing on his lips. And this was not happening!

“Well,” his dad cleared his throat again and Poe realised everyone was staring at them, curious looks of confusion and even amusement on their faces – or in Leia’s case, a smug smile Poe couldn’t get behind. “Let’s get some food, shall we?”

And so the Dameron Dinner in capital letters, because everything was home-made and his dad a magician in the kitchen, began. “This looks very delicious, Kes,” Leia praised as she grabbed a tortilla and helped herself. There were nods of agreement from all around the table.

“Thank you for this, Mr Dameron,” Finn said and Poe’s heart raced because his voice was so smooth and the smile he gave his dad was so genuine and sweet.

“Stop it with the formalities, I’m Kes to you! And no problem, kid, I hope you’ll like what Poe and I made.”

“Oh, you helped?” Finn asked, curious. And Poe knew exactly where he was coming from.  When did you manage to help with that between getting the shit scared out of you and getting punched in the gut. Twice.

“Nah,” Poe shook his head as he swallowed a bite of his burrito. “He just likes to share the praise. I literally just set the table, al the magic happening here is his fault.”

“You did help, though,” his dad insisted and Poe rolled his eyes but smiled. And Finn smiled, too, carefully taking a bite of his burrito and managing to keep the thing from falling apart.

Luke and Rey looked a bit overwhelmed and unsure of their technique, so Poe felt obligated to show them how to eat a burrito and not make a mess of themselves. He was met with grateful smiles and just so nobody would feel too bad, he loosened his grip a little, causing a bit of salad and cheese and salsa to fall on his plate. One of the two only plates who had until then been very clean.

Naturally, his eyes moved to Finn. Not because he was, like, drawn to him or something, nope. Only because they were sitting opposite each other and really had no choice but to meet each other’s eyes again and again. Because Finn was looking at him, too. And he was smiling a soft smile like he knew exactly what Poe had done just now. That soft smile of his, it was making Poe feel bold above all else. Still meeting Finn’s eyes, he winked at the boy, who looked away immediately, trying to suppress that sweet smile of his from happening, and Poe was sure he saw a flush a little. Although he could not be entirely sure with that wonderful dark skin of his. Anyway, a boy could dream.

[princecupcakee]

Park Bench | Reddie

Read on AO3

Rating: E

Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Word Count: 3,320

Chapter: 7/8

Past Chapters: Chapter 1 (AO3), Chapter 2 (AO3), Chapter 3 (AO3), Chapter 4 (AO3), Chapter 5 (AO3), Chapter 6 (AO3)

Next Chapters: 

Summary: Recently divorced and ‘incapable of love’, Eddie Kaspbrak moves to Los Angeles for work and a small, small hope of a fresh start. Broken up and never dated again, Richie Tozier tries to get back into love with help from his love of music. Quickly meeting eyes and one concert later, they think that maybe love isn’t that bad. So they try it one more time.

Chapter 7: Richie Tozier Waits, Richie Tozier Looks For Eddie Kaspbrak & Eddie Kaspbrak Gives A Vinyl 

Tag-list: @richietoaster​ , @s-s-georgie​ , @mikeuris​ , @gazebobullshit​ , @that-weird-girls-blog​ , @tozierking​ , @thoughtfullyyoungduck​ , @s-onora​ , @bellarosewrites​ , @lermanslogan​ , @ambitiousskychild​ , @ghostnebula​ , @vanillaredvelvet​ ,

(Ask if you wanna be on the tag-list!!)

Chapter 7

Richie Tozier Waits

Eddie was released from the hospital four days after his injury. It happened that morning, Richie couldn’t be there though. He almost fired his manager for not being able to move the meeting to later that day when he knew that Eddie was at home and healthy. (At home, Richie was really happy with the thought. Eddie at home.) It was Saturday now, and his plan was fitting into place. He held all the records in his hands, grinning. On the back of every vinyl was, ‘Eddie. I love you. Meet me at the park bench at three. -Richie.’

He grinned. He was able to learn the route Eddie takes on his way to work from Bev. Eddie wasn’t going to work that day of course, but the pharmacy he goes to was very close to his office, so he, Mike, and Bill were going to buy some pills from the doctor’s prescription. Richie was supposed to take the same train on his way to the meeting anyway, so he had just dropped the records on his way there. He tried his best to pay attention to the meeting; it didn’t work that well. How could you pay attention to a meeting when you’re about to propose to the love of your life? (Richie liked to use that; ‘love of my life’ it made his heartache in the best way possible.)

He got the rundown from Jackie when they had lunch that noon, right before he was heading back. Something about a show next week in some big, popular stage. She said she’d handle it so Richie just left it to her. He got on a train to the park after that, grabbing ice cream on his way there. He was far more than excited, but still a fair amount of fear. That was normal though, right?

It scared him a bit if he was feeling the right way. This felt so much calmer than what he had felt with Connor. Everything felt calm and sweet and right. He felt like he could finally stop holding his breath and smile without something in the back of his head telling him this is a lie. That this was a lie that you created in your head because you're so desperate. This was something that he could trust. Just being able to admit that meant more to him than anything he and Connor ever had. Eddie never lied to him, no suspicions because he’s always there. Always want to be there.

He was seated on the bench now. The ring in a box in his back pocket, turning his phone off the moment he unlocks it. It was only 2:15, he overestimated the time a bit. It would be fine though, Eddie’s early most of the time. He could keep himself busy.

The first fifteen minutes were boring. He just sat and stared and thought. He was productive, but that didn’t mean it was interesting. He plotted out a speech. He wouldn’t stand on the bench (though, he thought of it) it was going to be simple. Holding Eddie’s hands, he would thank him. All the thoughts he changed, all the things learned, the things that made him smile. Stating all of them would take them to the next day, of course, so just a few that their relationship was built on.

The next fifteen minutes were spent with a little girl who asked him what he was doing there. His answer was that he was going to propose to someone.

“Who?”

“My boyfriend.”

“Why?”

“Because I love him.”

“I love this girl. She lives across the street from me. She doesn’t like girls. I’m just waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

“For a girl who likes girls, or if she would like girls. Or me,” the child cocked her head to the side. They kept on with that until another girl came up behind her and gave her some flowers from the flower patch a few ways down the path. She had bid him goodbye and asked him if he could tell his husband she said hello.

The next fifteen minutes were spent talking to an old woman who’s husband was overseas. They hadn’t seen each other in a while but they had been talking over the phone. He had dialed the wrong number 53 years ago and they fell in love. The next few topics revolved around his love story (he never knew it was so fun to tell.) “I’m proposing to him today.”

“Thats wonderful. Be sure to take care of him and treasure him.”

“I really do.”

“Then your love is sure to live on for years. Just look at mine!” Unbeknownst to her, her husband was standing a few steps away from the park bench they were seated. The lady had bid Richie goodbye and went off with her husband.

The next fifteen minutes were spent with a middle-aged lawyer who feels as if his marriage is losing what it had before. He and his partner had been together for years as he says, it just feels as if they were drifting apart. They had gone back and forth with why he could be feeling that way, but nothing seemed to work out for him.

It was truly sad to see, you could see just how much the man loved them. Richie didn’t really think of this applying to himself, one because he wanted to help and, two, he didn’t really want to. It wouldn’t, anyway. They had talked about what could have made this happen, the man, close to tears, just shook his head. “You can always try. Be with them more, show them you love them,” Richie tried.

“How? We’ve been married for years, I don’t even know how.”

“Do something for them; what’s something they love?”

“Uh, flowers?”

“Give them a garden.”

The man thought about it intensely for a while, silently kicking a pebble. His stiffness lessened and he smiled, “I can try.”

“The effort would be enough to show it,” Richie smiles.

“Thank you,” the man smiled, off to the flower shop.

“Today is a good day for love,” Richie said to himself, watching as tiny droplets make little ripples in the water of the lake in front of him.

Richie Tozier Looks For Eddie Kaspbrak

He had waited for Eddie for three hours. The sun had set, the people were gone, the rain was so heavy to a point where it would hurt when it hit him. He stayed there though, waiting. By the time it was 6 o’clock, all of his phone calls without reply, all of his texts seen but unanswered, he was worried. He had run to his car, drenched in rain and eyes puffy from crying and heart beating faster than it ever has before from worry.

The thoughts chased him as he drove at a speed that seemed unimaginable. It probably wasn’t unimaginable, it was probably just the fact that his eyesight was horrible and the hard and heavy rain hitting his windshield didn’t make anything better.  He was dizzy, he was cold, what happened?

He should’ve left hours ago. He should’ve guessed that Eddie wouldn’t be there after only being released from the hospital. What was he thinking? Almost crashing into a tree when he turned left to the Marsh Mansion, the closest house to the park, and all the lights seemed to be spilling. He thought he might pass out. If he didn’t get someone, anyone, with him, he was probably going to die. He ran onto the brightly lit porch by the time it was 6:15, covered in what might as well just been his tears.

“Richie? What happened to you? I-“ Beverly cut her own words short. ‘he was proposing today,’ she thought, her heart aching at how pained Richie looked.

“I-I’m worried, Bev. Do you know where he is?”

“I’m- I’m so sorry Rich. I don’t know where he is. Wait here, I’ll call Ben, explain in the car okay?”

“I don’t know where he is Beverly,” he choked out loosely wrapping his arms around himself and resting his head on the door frame.

Instead of asking questions, she holds the side of his arms and goes back in to call Ben. Richie sunk down leaning almost fully onto the door frame. He can barely talk, too tired to let out an effort. It surprised him, mildly. When talking it was always so easy to let the words out, it barely hurts your throat, but when your scared, worried, anxious, tired, it takes up almost all your energy, even to just say ‘hi.’  

All three of them in the car, Ben driving, Beverly in the passengers and Richie seated in the back, his hands and legs moving around almost uncontrollably. He didn’t know if he was gonna panic, he didn’t know if he could see. Everything seemed to be spinning at such a fast pace, but he could see everything so clearly it was almost not moving. He didn’t understand and, frankly, he didn’t care to.

Maybe Eddie just didn’t leave the house. Maybe he was just asleep in his bed, his medication is there because Bill and Mike got it for him without Eddie needing to be there, and everything was fine. It was very likely that he was only making things worse in his head, and he dragged Ben and Bev, who knew nothing of what happened, into a slight panic for no reason at all. But he felt like he was going to choke, going to vomit his guts and lay limp on the ground. He felt like something was wrong, something isn’t the way its supposed to be. It was still probably just an overreaction, but fear is such a strong emotion.

By the time they had reached Richie’s apartment, his fear had subsided a fair amount. But when he opened his apartment door and all that was there was a vinyl and a letter on the table, his fear came back in a rush.

Eddie Kaspbrak Gives A Vinyl

He sat in Richie’s bed (he felt uncomfortable calling it his own) trying to compose himself.  It would be fine. The tear stains on the pillows would dry. The turtle will be fine. Anything he might’ve left would be thrown away. Everything would be as fine as it was in the beginning. But was it fine in the beginning? He was sure he wasn’t but Richie seemed to be doing good, he had his vinyl thing, he had his friends, his job, his new job, his house, his turtle. Richie would be fine without him.

But Eddie was wrapped in his selfishness, as he described it, and was scared of that exactly. That Richie would be fine without him, and that he wouldn’t be. That whatever he thought was pulling them together, was just something he made up in his head. He thought to himself that is was probably likely, he’s done it before: with his mother and his wife.

He took a deep breath, trying to push everything back inside, trying to stop the tears from falling again. This time, it worked. He picked himself back up and walked over to the living room. He just stood there for a while, feeling too guilty to even just walk around the apartment. Yet, he did. He walked over to the phonograph, something he’d wish he’d forget (or just never learned) and played whatever was on it. ‘He woke up from dreaming and put on his shoes’ sung the player.

Eddie wondered what song it was, slow, deep, and the lyrics tugged at his heart. Maybe it was just his mood but something about this song felt wrong. Something about this song brought the best and the worst upon… something. That whats probably stupid, though.

The song carried him around as he listened, “Forgive me I’m trying to find, my calling, I’m calling at night. I don’t mean to be a bother but have you seen this girl?”  Eddie sat down on the sofa, pulling his legs close together and his hands on his lap, feeling too foreign, too unwelcome to take up more space than he has. The lyrics took him strongly, his heart tight and loose at the same time, feeling each beat. He drums his fingers on the sofa, following the beats, “She’s been running through my dreams. And its driving me crazy it seems. I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

He laughed. If only his story had the same plot. If Richie asked him to marry him, he would’ve definitely said yes. He would be horrified, his past would be screaming at him no but he would’ve said yes. ‘But Richie wouldn’t do that,’ he thinks. The song went on, and it seemed as if every lyric narrated something so familiar. It was a story in the form of a song, of course, it had narrated something. But that didn’t explain why it felt like the lyrics sung something he knew. He dismissed it, thinking it was probably just a fairytale from his childhood.

As the song continued to the end, he wondered if maybe it wasn’t a fairytale. Maybe his story did have the same plot. He picked up the record, put it back in its box, and picked up a pen.

~~~

Eddie took the subway. It was faster than having to go through the L.A. traffic and missing his flight, plus, he didn’t want to spend any more time in this city than he needs to. Any more time in this state, actually. Bill and Mike were staying in L.A. (maybe for good) while Eddie would be back where he belongs: in New York City. They had told him, multiple times, that he could go back. That he didn’t have to do this, but Eddie only insisted. It didn’t take long for them to drop the argument.

Eddie regrets not using the car the moment he walked over the platform gap. There, right in front of him, was Hot Fuss, once again. He breathed in, trying to push the tears back in and looked away swiftly. Bill must’ve caught the action, as he put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, who quickly shrugged it off. They took a seat far from the vinyl, not anywhere close to their field of vision.

Despite that, he still tried to watch it closely. It bothered him how much he needed it, to even see it would let him feel calmer. He picked up his bag, smiled at Mike and Bill saying that he had dropped something earlier, and walked over to where they were in the beginning. Bill and Mike knew what he was doing, it wasn’t that hard to spot, but they had let him be. If this was the last time, then, they supposed he might as well have it while its there.

Eddie sat beside the vinyl looking at it intensely. It was an argument that no one would win, he was arguing with himself. Not knowing if he should just leave it, take it with him or simply just take it in his hands. It lasted while he thought he probably looked weird just staring at a record on the seat beside him. He took it in his hands though, carefully tracing the letters on the front of it. He wished he didn’t take it at all. Because there, written almost illegibly in thick black sharpie was: ‘Eddie. I love you. Meet me at the park bench at three. -Richie.’

Unsurprisingly, though, as much as Eddie didn’t want to, he checked the watch on his phone. It was 2:30. He could still be there. He could still meet Richie and the park bench where they kissed. He could still take back all that he was letting go and- but he shook his head lightly, put the vinyl down, and walked back over to Bill and Mike, ignoring the vinyl for the rest of the ride.

~~~

The plane hadn’t started moving yet. He was looking out the window now, breathing in, breathing out. It was hard to not break into tears when you’re on a plane leaving the place you fell in love with someone for the first time. There was nothing in his headphones this time, no Hot Fuss, no All Time Low or Lucinda Williams, just white noise. Sometimes, when there was no sound, he would hear a ringing in his ears, something that sounded like a flatline, he hated it. It sounded like death. Silence sounded like death. He was listening to silence, so maybe it meant the plane would crash, maybe it meant something had died. Who knew what did, though?

He hit the play button on his earphones and waited, ‘Remember all the things we wanted,’ he heard. What is this song? He picked up his phone to change it, but something about this made him think. He laughed joylessly, this is exactly it. He pulled out his phone. Create a playlist, name playlist: richie. He smiled down at his phone, adding all the songs that reminded him of Richie, of their short-lived romance.

He was presented with a box, ‘Add a description’  written inside of it. He took a deep breath, how would he want to remember this? Then, with a painful thought, he typed what he wrote to Richie.

‘Richie,

I should be on a plane to New York City by the time you come home. My clothes would be gone, Maturin would be been fed, and you would be back with a schedule for your next great performance.

I love you. I don’t know what else to say besides that. I don’t think I’ve ever really been in love before you. My marriage didn’t feel the way this does, my flings never even coming close. You bring the chaos thats mandatory in love. The unsteady heartbeats, the unexplainable smiling, the uncontrollable need to be together. Thats how people describe love, right? This is how I feel about you Richie, never thin I left because I don’t want you because I would do anything to be able to. But I can’t stay. But, you’ll find someone new, you’ll be famous, you’ll have the life you were supposed to have. Its just that, that life doesn’t have me in it.

I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be there when you came home. I didn’t want you to see me and I didn’t wanna make the mistake of staying. I wish I could’ve had you, Richie. I wish I didn’t do the things I did so that there was nothing to risk so that I could be there with you. I’ve done so many things to hurt people, I don’t wanna hurt you. You’re too important to me. I don’t know if they really were hurt, or if they just wanted to manipulate me, but I couldn’t take any chances, especially on you.

Thank you. I guess love isn’t as bad as I thought it was, it wasn’t as guilty and as scary and as plain. I would stay if I could. Anyone who would leave you and hurt you doesn’t deserve what you give. I don’t deserve it, Richie. I’m glad I had it for a little while, but you need someone who can love you the way you're supposed to be loved. I don’t even trust myself, why should you trust me? I can’t fall in love again. Its only you. Thanks for changing my life and making it better. Sorry, I couldn’t do anything for you, but I hope you can find someone who can do what you did to me.

Fear is horrible, Richie. Don’t let it get in the way of you as it did to me.

I love you.

-Eddie’

[writethehousedown]

And The Livin's Easy, Chapter Four (Multi) - Zyan

a/n: day 4 is upon us and i tried my best at keeping a balance! hope you like it 💗 thanks to frey for beta-ing. my sideblog is @chachkisalpaca !

It doesn’t take long until Gigi shoots Crystal a DM on Instagram, and Crystal replies with her usual wit, clearly glad to hear from her again.

Their conversation flows naturally, and they hardly let go of their phones throughout the rest of the day. On Gigi’s side, the girls pester her at all times, trying to get a peek at the handle of the mysterious woman she’d hooked up with at the beach — at some point, Gigi locks herself in the bathroom to text Crystal in peace, and only comes out when Nicky threatens to post to her Instagram Stories a video of that one time she gave a motivational talk to a carton cutout outside of the club, completely shitfaced and convinced it was a real woman.

She vaguely tells Crystal that —without going into details about the video, clearly,— and Crystal feels relieved that she and Vanjie aren’t staying at the same room. She loves her friend, but Vanjie snores as loud as she speaks, and Crystal appreciates her personal space, something Vanjie rarely remembers exists.

Crystal checks the weather forecast and smiles upon seeing there’s another full day of heat and sun upon them. Tomorrow they’re going chasing waves at Waikiki along with Vanessa and April, and a thought sparkles in her mind.

She asks Gigi what is she doing the next day, and she replies by saying they still don’t know. Jan has been pleading them to go on this submarine to watch the fishes, Nicky just wants to hit any of the clubs in the city, Jackie and Brita prefer to go back to her uncle’s bar, and Gigi doesn’t even know what she wants for dinner.

She comments, trying to make it as nonchalant as she can, that she’s going to Waikiki with some friends to train, adding that the beach is beautiful and knows a place nearby with great drinks. Gigi sends her a pair of eye emojis before saying that maybe she’ll tell the girls about it.

Crystal goes to sleep with a smile, feeling like a giddy child.

*

“Don’t you think Gigi is acting weird?” Nicky asks Jackie, upon seeing Gigi willfully head to the water alongside with Jan and Brita. Jackie cocks a brow, scrambling to get the sunscreen from her bag.

“Yeah, I think so. I was surprised when she proposed coming to Waikiki, ‘cause, ya know, she hates beaches,” she replies absent-mindedly, triumphantly holding up the bottle and finally pulling her gaze to meet Nicky’s. “Do you think the mysterious woman is here?” Jackie inquires, starting to cover her body in sunscreen.

Nicky shrugs, pulling her knees closer to her chest, watching Jackie closely. She wonders for a moment if this is a good moment to talk about what happened, now that they’re alone, but Jackie’s been avoiding it for weeks, so she really doesn’t know if she’ll be willing to have that conversation.

Before she can say anything, Jackie turns her attention back to her with a sheepish expression.

“Can you help me with my back?” She asks, handing her the sunscreen. Nicky feels her face heat up as soon as she nods and Jackie turns around, the memories flooding back as her fingers spread the cream on her back.

Jackie shivers a little, but stays silent. Nicky exhales a breath she didn’t know she’s been holding and tries to find the right words to express the feelings bottled up in her chest.

But she can’t. She’s afraid she might make things go back to being awkward, as if they hadn’t just moved past that point. There’s a lot of things Nicky wants to say, though, but she’ll just let Jackie live.

“Done,” Nicky musters, setting the bottle aside and wiping the remnants of the sunscreen on her thighs. Jackie thanks her and adjusts her bathing suit as she stands up.

“You coming?” She asks, pointing at the rest. Jan and Brita are splashing Gigi, who just screeches and runs around, trying to escape from them. Nicky chuckles, but shakes her head no.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” she simply replies. Jackie cocks her head a little, opening her mouth to say something. Nicky continues before she can say anything, “I have a feeling it’ll rain,” Nicky explains, and an amused smile blooms on Jackie’s face.

“What? But it’s sunny as hell! And the weather forecast said today would be hot,” Jackie points out, but Nicky just shrugs.

“I have a sixth sense,” she says, matter-of-factly.

Jackie just chuckles, saying she knows where they’ll be if she decides to join them.

*

Crystal bites back a laugh when she meets Gigi, who’s sitting under a palm. She has two smoothies and a shit-eating grin.

“Took you long enough,” she says, handing her the smoothie. Crystal laughs wholeheartedly, settling besides Gigi and leaving her surfboard next to her.

She didn’t lie when she said she takes her training seriously; just because Gigi is hot and they have chemistry, doesn’t mean she’s going to push aside her obligations. At the end of the day, they have a normal life to come back to once the summer is over — and Crystal has a surfing competition to win in five days.

“You won’t be complaining when I win next week and I treat you to a dinner,” Crystal teasingly says, taking a sip from her smoothie. Though she secretly hopes she’s manifesting it into the universe — she could use that money to pay a good chunk of her student loans, aside from taking Gigi to dinner.

“I’ll have you know, I’m not a gold digger and I like complaining. You’re basically fucked,” Gigi replies with a wink. Crystal merely chuckles, bumping shoulders with Gigi.

“Well, if it’s by you, I don’t mind,” Crystal quickly quips, making Gigi snort and spit her smoothie.

“You’re nasty,” she says, smirking, wiping off the smoothie from her chin.

“You like it.” Crystal brings a thumb to the corner of Gigi’s mouth and wipes off some sneaky drops, and the action is so familiar, yet so different, that it sends a shiver down her spine.

Gigi clearly remembers it too, but she doesn’t say anything, just watches her intently with the same hungry eyes as that night at the beach.

There’s something about her that Crystal feels drawn to; like a moth to the light, she can’t help but to gravitate towards Gigi. It sounds stupid, because they’re properly known each other for a day and a few hours, but she feels as if it’s the only appropriate way to put it.

They talk about different topics, but all Crystal wants to do is close the distance between them and capture her lips in a kiss.

Gigi is talking about her major in fashion when the first drop falls. Soon, the pouring rain makes them aware of the dark clouds that had progressively covered the Sun. Something they hadn’t noticed, being too distracted with each other.

“My car’s down the street, follow me,” Crystal soon instructs her, using her surfboard as an umbrella.

They walk rapidly, though they stumble once or twice and bump into people thanks to the surfboard over their heads; with each step they take the rain becomes more aggressive. The people are already leaving, with their things half packed as they cram into their cars, and Gigi lets a sigh of relief when she sits in the passenger seat, that conveniently has a towel already spread out.

“That was for my friend, Vanjie, in case she came back with me,” Crystal explains unprompted, adjusting her seatbelt.

Gigi nods absent-mindedly, pulling out her phone from her shorts and dialing Nicky’s number — she always has her phone glued to her hand. It rings three times before she picks up.

“Geeg, where are you?” Nicky exclaims, there’s noise in the background and Gigi vaguely makes out the girls’ voices.

“I’m fine, I’m with Crystal in her car,” she says, letting it slip. But she figures now it’s not the time to play secretive. “Where are you?”

“Well, we’re going to the bus stop. Can you meet us there?” Gigi briefly glances at Crystal, who’s just staring at her with her brows knitted in a frown.

“I, uh, I guess I can, but—” She says something in French that Crystal can’t understand for the life of her, even though French is technically close to Spanish.

Gigi sighs in relief and bids goodbye to whomever she was talking to, turning back to look at Crystal.

“Would you mind if I come back to your place with you? Until the rain stops, I mean,” she says, and Crystal blinks repeatedly until she catches on with Gigi’s wicked grin.

*

Brooke’s Canadian politeness makes her unable to ignore Plastique.

She somehow regrets having used her as a rebound and at the same time not — Plastique is sweet, witty, and caring, and the fact that she seems to not have a clue she used to date Vanessa is a plus. She doesn’t act awkward around her or makes jokes about it. It’s nice.

Plastique sends her a photo of a bird she saw outside her window before the rain started, because she thought she’d like it, and Brooke smiles; it’s such a small thing, but it makes her giddy.

She giggles and soon hears Yvie mocking her from the other side of the room. Brooke rolls her eyes and throws one of the cushions from the sofa her way — sadly, it goes past her, and Yvie sticks her tongue out.

“Don’t you have a lifeguard to thirst after?” Brooke bites back, making Yvie shut her mouth. But it’s only a matter of time before she speaks again.

“I mean, yes, but it’s funnier to be a pain in the ass for you,” she quips nonchalantly, and Brooke cocks a brow.

“Weren’t you the one telling me to move on just a couple of days ago?” She inquires, and Yvie rolls her eyes.

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean I like seeing your ass go back into a lovey-dovey mode. It’s disgusting,” Yvie says, doing an exaggerated disgusted face, and Brooke laughs loudly.

“Shut up and do me a favor — go get busy with the lifeguard and leave me alone, would you?” Brooke requests, throwing another cushion towards Yvie and hitting her in the face. She laughs, pleased, and Yvie throws it back at her.

“Her name’s Scarlet,” she says, “and I might just do it.” Yvie stands up, putting her phone in her pockets and heading towards the door.

“Don’t scare her off with your niche horror movies yet!” Brooke exclaims before she leaves.

Yvie flips her off and shuts the door behind her, Brooke chuckles just as a new text from Plastique comes in.

*

Gigi comes back way past after the rain ended and avoids all of her friends when they ask why did she come back so late — she just tells them she was busy with Crystal. And it takes them less than a minute to put two and two together and figure out that’s the name of the mysterious woman.

They decide to not push it, because even if Gigi has quite a few hickeys, she seems fine, and the dumb smile on her face makes them believe they shouldn’t worry.

Still, Jackie finds it hard not to worry, because she’s their mother hen after all, and she cares deeply for each one of the girls. Some more than the others.

Jackie’s gaze lingers towards Nicky, who’s leaning against the window with her cigarette dangling from her lips. She feels a knot in her stomach when the vision becomes too familiar — it makes Jackie regret not taking the opportunity to talk things out earlier that day and chickening out instead.

They’ve been acting like this for months, ignoring the elephant in the room, the writings on the wall — you name it, they’ve avoided it. Sometimes Jackie swears the girls know, when they shoot her sympathetic glares or joke about Nicky wanting to sleep with Jackie and vice versa.

If only they knew the truth.

Sometimes she misses waking up with Nicky and sneaking out from the others to make out, or how their hands found each other in a crowded space and even when they were alone, they wouldn’t let go.

Jackie misses all of that, but what she surely doesn’t miss is Nicky’s indecisiveness on whether or not she wanted a serious relationship with her.