#i got the crafts all straightened out yesterday

[itgirlgyu]

HOW TO GET BACK AT MIDDLE-SCHOOLERS.

₍ sum.₎ after experiencing some bullying from middle schoolers, and getting swindled out of the last bit of his money, he instills your help, his best friend, to get back his money as well as honour. but you soon find out that he was not telling the entire truth... would you still find him despite finding his dirty little secret? yeonjun x fem!reader. ft! cashier!soobin. warning!!! some cussing, mean kids, weird adults, age shaming. :( WC! 3.9k+.

“how the fuck do you get scammed by middle schoolers?” you spat the words with the contempt to bruise whatever ego yeonjun had left—if any—after getting deceived by a bunch of school going kids and instead of taking action by himself to sleep better at night with the assurance that he wasn't such a major pushover, he had come crying to you; begging you to avenge him whilst you were busy trying to prepare to crack the examination of your recent job interview.

“aren't they like 12?!”

“15!” yeonjun, suddenly growing a backbone corrected the little error in your data, “they are in their third year!”

“you look like you are in your third reincarnation!” she shot back, “the bags under your eyes could hold up to 15 kgs of your own bullshit so just own up to your carelessness”.

yeonjun opened his mouth to defend himself, controlling the urge to take out his phone to check out the state of the durable eye bags he was carrying under his eyes,”i thought this concealer was ultra coverage with skin like finish,” yeonjun murmured to himself.

yeonjun and you were huddled together under a shrub in the afternoon–when you should be cramming down job questionnaires–waiting for the group of kids who had mercilessly robbed your friend of his last 50 dollars of the week and seek the revenge; the barely legal sort, kissing the lethal of edge of ‘if it ever got out–neither of you would be able to show face in the community for a while. not glossing over the fact that you two were hiding into the shadow like a pair of perverts waiting to spring forth and scar the futures of the nation irrevocably. “quit yapping to yourself’ you snarled, quickly snapping your neck to check up on yeonjun, “ so what's the plan”

you both were blinking at each other for a good few seconds before it all registered in his head and he managed to face without lifting his butt even once. despite his pitiful morality to be fooled at the drop of a hat, if there was one thing he didn’t disappoint in–it was his core strength. you sometimes wish the same could have been said for his mental strength. all it took for you was to let out a sigh for him to remember the plan that he had crafted all weekend long.

“we confront them,’ he began before the expression in his face to display the crucial detail which he was failing to recall had finally graced the lacking department of his memory, “you confront them.”

you could have seen this coming from a mile away and that is exactly why you had arrived at the rendezvous for the reprisal against the middle schoolers that had wronged yeonjun.

“deal with your own shit.”

it took yeonjun less than a second to almost throw himself at your feet to stop you from abandoning him. you hadn’t even gotten to fully straighten your back before he came to his senses and decided to follow your version of the plan; the rational kind.

“we throw water at them and then we run.”

“thats your rational plan?” yeonjun retaliated, the glimmer of hope swimming in his head drowning as soon as the rational plan you had come up with was verbalized.

“i thought of it all day yesterday after you told me.”

bare-faced lies; you didn’t spare a single thought on his matter, and you were not even guilty about it. rather than keeping the promise you had been thrown into haphazardly. yeonjun, in fact, had to wake you up from a nap to come out with him to execute the little mission to reclaim his honor back.

“no we can't do that,” yeonjun spoke solemnly. the wrinkle of consequences settling deep within his non-existent pores as he averted his gaze rather shamefully. his footsteps taking like steps to aid him in facing away in his rather compact position, “my cousin is one of them.”

yeonjun added the last bit of the sentence timidly; his teeth were almost chattering out of fear.

amidst all these elaborate ruse to gain one's honor back, yeonjun had forgotten to relay one tiny crucial piece of information to you; it was his cousin and his annoying friend group who had swindled the money out of him, and the only reason he wants revenge, or something like that, was to gain back the authority one must possess as one of the eldest sons in the family: a position that he accidentally let stumble, also the money.

“why can't we do that?” you repeated your question, the annoyance slipping back through the crevice of the words letting yeonjun know of your irritation and the lack of willingness to be there any longer.

yeonjun thanked his stars for your poor sense of hearing, and his soft vocals to keep the secret remain as one, because god forbid you catch the whiff of it—yeonjun would not contemplate much to figure out the amount of money you'd extort out of him for wasting your time over a topic that could be solved in a family function. even if he does not gain back the respect he deserves, he can not let you figure out the truth if he wishes to carry on his life without a nose revision job.

“jail!” yeonjun blurted out, “we might end up in jail for harassing minors.”

“wait yeah,” you concurred, the repercussions of having hands on punishment over quite literally children finally dawning into your foggy alley of judgment, “you're right.”

“so we confront them.” yeonjun revised his earlier plan, at last deciding to go with you version, he had just to make sure his cousin does not get a word in and end up spilling water over the entire bit he had planned out—in the moment right now. if he had realized this in that time when he was overwhelmed with the humiliation and fear leading him to vent to his best friend—you—and convince you to partake in his zany revenge on children; one of which is his actual cousin. whilst this all may seem juvenile he did want to gain back the respect over the younglings in the family so perhaps this little mission was not that of a bad idea as yeonjun might have concluded it to be as it approached closer.

“i didn't think you'd be actually smart enough to foresee the consequences,” you ended up complimenting yeonjun, despite not wanting to. you hadn't always gotten a sense of caution and logic from him but at times when he did excel your set expectations of him you couldn't help but praise the man.

whilst the two of you were busy commemorating the acute common sense yeonjun possessed and decided to marvel at time of need, there was a sudden disruption into the bush you two were inhabiting. it was a football and a toddler; followed by a teenager who had come to collect both the ball and the toddler and had been very verbally freaked out to see two adults crouching down whilst having a heart to heart conversation. the look of shock and mild disgust etched on the face of the teenager had you springing up to your feet and trying to come up with a good enough reason that would not result in both of you spending a night in the jail cell.

“it's not what it looks like!”

“su-” the boy dragged his words, with his eyes glued to you as he snatched the balls and the toddler, making sure you didn't get any time to surprise attack them. without providing any time to put forth any semblance of appeal from your side the boy has scurried away, leaving you to be the epitome of “stranger danger” as well as the weird person to steer clear away from.

“this is all because of you!” the rage taking over you upon the realization that you had just ruined your perception on some random people that you will never meet again and manifesting in the kick that you had bestowed upon yeonjun's knees causing him to tumble on the side like a singular pin in the bowling alley.

“how is it because of me?” yeonjun hissed in pain, his hands quickly reaching out to grab the knee you had slightly grazed over—the real reason why he had fell over was of course his poor posture and the need to incorporate dramatics in every aspect of his life but he did not need to tell you that, and you did not need to know it either—you were already aware of this peculiar aspect of his personality as a result of the long-standing friendship, “my knees! my knees!”

you rolled your eyes and stepped away; and kept stepping away until you were almost out of the bush and he alone looked like a man who had done too much day drinking.

“when the hell are they coming?” you squint your eyes in displeasure from waiting, letting the sobriety clutch your shoulders and shake you into remembering that you are two adults waiting to ambush a bunch of kids—albeit the kids stole from your friend first, so the guilt did ease itself a little.

yeonjun shook the dust off his pants, “right about now?” scanning through the myriad of teenagers bunched together getting out of after school classes looking for the familiar faces within them, “there!” yeonjun pointed his finger towards them, pinpointing the lil posse of delinquents. your eyes followed suit and stopped at a group of three boys and two girls at a feasible distance, seemingly heading towards the convenience store.

“It's game time,” you cracked your neck, readying yourself to not get fatally wounded by the expected brashness of those brats—skillfully ignoring the look of adoration from yeonjun that followed after the declaration of gusto. strengthening the spirits as adrenaline began to rush through your veins, providing you with enough bravery to whizz out at the kids and come out as victorious if it ended within fifteen minutes: the chances of this going very wrong after the set time was dangling somewhere around 90 to 98%. if you were going to do it, you shall do it with your all.

“welcome!” the part time behind the counter greeted you and yeonjun with a sort of monotone that itself felt like it was forced out of the larynx of the unwilling worker, but you weren't here to critique the work ethic of a barely paid man; or to reciprocate the forced etiquettes. instead you let your hawk gaze zero on the pesky group that you both had followed into the store blissfully, and noisily loitering around the ramen isle.

“and i said that peanut flavored ramen would give you gyatt issues.”

“you mean gut issue—”

“hey you peanuts!”

confronting a bunch of teenagers was no easy feat, and with the so-called victim slowly stepping back with the means of becoming one with the various packets of chips was another thing but the war had been waged. in simpler words, it would be very embarrassing to not get through to the end of it.

“you bullied my friend over here,” you moved your head vaguely to point at yeonjun’s disintegrating presence, “and stole from him didn't you all?”

“what friend are you talking about?” one of the kids spoke up, “ and who you calling bullies ahjumma?”

“ahjumma?” you patience had already started strip away, pulling your facial muscles tighter, and freezing your face into an expression would make anyone's blood run cold with one glance, the only sign of life left within your eyebrows as they twitched due to the time bomb whose reverse countdown had began since the utterance of the forsaken word.

“please, any battery assault on minors if intended must be carried outside this property!” the cashier sprung into action faster than anyone, deftfully stepping up to protect his minimum wage job but the apathy had still been seeping out of his words without a hitch, sneaking stealing a glance at the cctv overlooking the entire situation to make sure his warning had been captured into the camera to ensure his participation in making sure whatever that would transpire, he had indeed tried to stop it.

perhaps, it was soobin, the cashier who had brought yeonjun back to the reality and the really ugly scenario that was about to take place if he put himself first and ran off, bidding adieu to his self respect, the money and the friendship or he could see the anger that happened to be radiating off your body because he had appeared instantaneously from the lucrative hiding spot he had found for himself within the layers of jellies, “are you okay?” the worry was evident in his voice although anyone would be a fool to not recognize the undertone of fear layered underneath the cadence of his voice.

“hyung?!”

yeonjun stiffened up—his gig was up. it happened sooner than he had expected, honestly but the little humiliation was miles better than you getting into an actual physical altercation with the kids where one of them was the son of his aunt. he was willing to sacrifice as much—amazingly enough forgetting that he was the one to rope you into this mess in the first place.

“hyung what are you doing here?” the kid queried once again, inching closer to get a better look at yeonjun’s guilty ass that even his full coverage concealer couldn't cover up.

“i-”

“hyung?” you repeated incredulously, gazing back and forth between the accused and the accuser; the so-called victim and the perpetrator, “why is he calling you hyung?”

“that's cause he is my cousin,” the accused #4 deadpanned, “wait was it because we asked for money from you like yesterday?!”

“asked? more like you guys surrounded me and wouldn't stop peer pressing me into giving you the money, so you did bully it out of me and that's not cool. “ yeonjun sighed, confessing what he had truly felt, “ so i want you to give me the money back and never do this again, that is not how you were raised.”

“wait a fucking second!” you spoke up interrupting the life lesson from older brother to younger brother, fanning away the smoke that was coming out of your nostrils at the utter betrayal from the man you had been foolishly calling your best friend for all these years, “your cousin took the money from you not some random middle schoolers?!?”

accused #4 who had been shamefully hanging his head low—proof of the choi genes aren't as rotten as yeonjun had thought it to be because once publicly shamed and given the right lesson, they do indeed listen like real men!—sensed the upcoming tsunami, and backed away, letting his cousin take the blow which he rightfully deserved.

yeonjun opened his mouth to defend himself but decided not to dig himself a deeper hole, and nodded. his new game plan was to take the verbal beating and then speak up once the physical one begins, “but you see this was needed.”

of course he couldn't help himself but speak out the truth regardless of his decision to stick to taking it instead of sticking up for himself. it is not like he has stood up with any of his choices through and through and he wasn't going to start today as well; every plan could be revised according to the situation and yeonjun quite prides himself in his flexibility. although his regard about himself might just be a little skewed to himself according to on-lookers.

“please, any attempted murder should be carried outside!” soobin the cashier intervened once more.

“dude!” yeonjun cried out, snapping his head around to find the name tag on the cashier's chest to build a closer relationship to stop him from giving his already furious best-friend—now steaming like an overheated engine—ideas on how to handle the situation. yeonjun could very well buy a new nose but how would he buy his life out from a grim reaper?

“soobin please!” the cashier, soobin, shrugged with an utmost look of languor before going back to doing nothing behind the counter, yet appearing very unavailable to be involved in further chumminess with a bunch of unpaying and troublesome customer in the store.

accused #4, who was better at reading the room than his obtuse cousin,had been quietly gathering his friends to take a run from the painful showdown that was taking place at an excruciating pace. in spite of the skilled attempt to make a run, they were stopped when you raised your voice after you finished analyzing the situation and what to do in a stupid situation like this. murder was still somewhere in the mental notepad, although not right now. you could somehow make out why yeonjun would instill your help after getting bullied by his own cousin and friends. more than his money, he wanted the respect back and you were still willing to help the man—who betrayed your trust, ruined your evening, made you seem like a pervert in the park, got you to hear a bunch of middle schoolers refer to you as an old woman and made you appear like a homicidal freak to the cashier—because he was your best friend. not for long though.

“you heard him,” you crossed your arms against your chest, the cold stealth back in your voice to scare the kids, “cough of the money and apologize to your cousin. “

yeonjun was touched; he could cry in that moment; unaware that the tears had already started to pathetically stream down his cheeks until soobin, the cashier with whom he now built a closer relationship with once he figured out that no potential crime is going to be committed in his work place, passed him the tissue to dab away the tears.

after the initial moaning and groaning, with the kids huddled in a circle to gather cash for the rightful return. they came up with 25 dollars and a few cents, the first installment as they had called it smugly.

“hyung! you have to give me a family discount!* accused #4 pleaded to your surprise, and to much bigger surprise (not really), yeonjun gave in to the entitled demand. disgracefully accepting the measly twenty five dollars and the few cents of the whole fifty that was taken away from him with an ear to ear proud grin plastered on his face, watching the presumptuous entourage of middle schoolers.

“im so glad you decided to forgive me. “ you wanted to snap in middle and shove his little gesture into his own bottoms but you resisted; clenching your teeths, your lips were pulled into a tight line to to ensure no harsh words just magically slip past and ruin the beautiful tension you were building up before you hit him with the news after he was done yapping.

“i would forgive you if you were my best friend,” you smiled, ignoring the smile that slowly disappeared off his face, “that's why you're no longer my friend. “

“consider that twenty five dollars your parting gift.” you added. your expression still taut on your face whilst yeonjun’s facial muscles started to twitch like the tectonic plates under earth's crust as he processed the sudden break up. opening his mouth like a fish coming out of water before sinking back in with the visual representation of his beak obvious in the way he appeared, clutching the twenty five dollars and the few cents in his sweaty palm.

“what?” yeonjun finally found his voice. you nodded, reiterating what you had just expressed to him, “ but you helped me out there”

“parting gift!” you called out just as soon, your attention now used to pick out the flavor of ramen you wanted to eat since you had come to the store anyway, “and for our parting dinner, pay this off” you held up the cup that you had chosen before going back to

“can't I just just pay for this and call it even?” yeonjun pleaded, hurriedly picking up the flavor he preferred and tailed you to the microwave. the impatience reflecting in the restless in his foot as he waited for your reply like a little child, making an unfair deal.

“nope!” you replied, closing the microwave and turning to look him in the eyes as you say it, “you humiliated me.”

yeonjun appeared apologetic. he was no selfish person who would put other people in such positions and derive joy from it. he wouldn't even think of asking of such favors from other than you but you felt a rage sail within you because of the fact that he had hidden the real motive beneath the silly request he made, and you had come with it despite how juvenile it might have sounded; along with the consequences if it were to turn ugly in some way

“i know i'm sorry, but you were the only one who could have helped me,” yeonjun apologized once more,“and you see how well that went. “

“no can do, grow a backbone.”

yeonjun placed his bowl after you took yours out as you were occupying the only working one.

“please!”

“nope!”

“well… “ yeonjun was growing even more restless; the rhythm of his foot tapping against the ground relaying the disorder of the folders of his mind as he fished for a suitable reason to keep the friendship,“ you don't even have other friends.”

the gasp that followed was involuntary as you sealed the packet with the wooden chopsticks with a renewed flash of anger coursing through your veins, “I'll make new!”

yeonjun finally eased a little. the smirk was slowly beginning to appear back on his face and it was looking quite smug to be owned by a man who was to be abandoned by a friend, and was supposed to be apologetic.

“hey…” you looked at the cashier, catching his attention before reading the tag on his vest, “soobin will you be my friend? ill make this convenience store my regular”

“this is already your go-to convenience store.“

your enticing smile faltered at the embarrassing attempt to make your first friend after the fall out with the best friend five minutes ago, and worse—it happened in front of him!

“oh… you must be new then?” you narrowed your eyes to analyze his features to figure out any other time you had seen him at this store, although the face felt unfamiliar but the attitude he was giving did not seem to support the conclusion you were coming to, “you're not.”

“exactly.” soobin smiled, taunting a dimple at you before putting on his deadpan expression back on.

“your best bet is me,” yeonjun, now with his hot ramen in his hand, sat next to you in front. of the window, blocking the view of soobin with his big head which had grown a few more sizes after watching you get rejected in real time,“we are the only ones who can handle each other. say if we are 30 and have a hard time finding a spouse we settle together.”

“shut the fuck up and eat your ramen.” you sulk, blowing onto the portion that was wrapped around your chopsticks before shoving it into your mouth.

“does this mean you forgave me?” the child-like lilt was back into voice and you couldn't help but roll your eyes and leave him. hanging. the silence—save for the slurps of the noodles—giving the answer he needed to feel at ease and gleefully chomp onto his sausage.

©ITGIRLGYU 2022-24. ₍ finally a proper comeback yay! ₎

PERM' TAGLIST: @bamtorin @ox1-lovesick @jisungsdaydreamer @wonioml @1921choi @forever-in-the-sky2 @beoms-sugar @gyuletters

[antonsmommy]

Reliever Pt. 1 (Jung Sungchan)

・word count: 1.6k ・pairing: Sungchan x Reader Synopsis: You get turned down by your work crush, Eunseok. Unbeknownst to you, Sungchan, your seemingly quiet workmate, has had his eyes on you. What begins as a simple night out with Sungchan quickly shifts into something mysterious and thrilling. ・warnings: suggestive but no smut (at least not yet), cursing ・genre: sexy, adult romance ・author’s note: not that anyone’s gonna read this, but enjoy?

There he was.

183 cm tall, piercing eyes, chiseled jawline…

This was your chance to ask Song Eunseok out.

Clutching at your mid-length pencil skirt, you walked up to Eunseok who was busy post processing the photos from yesterday’s shoot.

He seemed to notice your presence, and so he waved at you.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for you.”

You let out an inaudible gasp.

“Y-you were?”

He pulled out a swivel chair and gestured for you to sit beside him.

Just the thought of sitting beside your work crush aka your team’s lead photographer made you nervous.

You obliged and took the seat next to him.

“So, I’ve been wanting to show you the photos from the collab with Ami Paris and ask if you can get the graphics done by next week Tues?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat…

Right, he was only looking for you because of work.

“Actually, Eunseok, I- I sent them over earlier for your feedback.”

His eyes lit up like a kid. “You’re awesome. I guess I haven't checked my mail yet. Hehe.”

The smile he gave you, the tiny clutch on your chair… all these made your heart race.

“Uhm, Eunseok… can I ask you something?” 

“Yes, but don’t ask me for money. I don’t have that shit.” He joked, proud of his humor. 

He grinned right after catching a glance of his phone.

Here you go, be brave. Be brave.

“I was thinking of going to that newly opened speakeasy after work? Y-you wanna check it out with me?”

Eunseok looked up after a millisecond of staring into his phone again.

He hesitated for a moment before responding, "That sounds nice, but I actually have plans tonight."

A flicker of curiosity crossed your face. "Ah, really? Anything fun?"

He gave you a sheepish smile. "Yeah, I’ve got a date.”

“A real, hot date.”

He showed you his phone, and in it was a picture of the model from the S/S 2025 shoot that  your team did a month ago

And yep, that was a thirst trap right before your eyes.

Long, slim legs against the pilates reformer, check.

Perfectly crafted pouty lips, check.

And a low cut Alo sports bra that showcased her erm…. double check.

A moment of disappointment passed over you, but you quickly masked it with a joking smile.

“Big… ah I mean, big plans tonight. Welllll, you’re in for a ride.”

Eunseok’s eyes drifted back to his phone, and you saw him send a shocked emoji to the story of his real, hot date.

“I sure am. Gotta go.” Eunseok replied, his tone genuine yet distant. "Catch you later."

As you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze lingered on his phone, already lost in anticipation of the evening ahead. The office seemed to close around you as you straightened down the folds of your button down linen shirt.

You felt nothing but the bra gap in your 34Bs. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unbeknownst to you, somebody was watching you.

No, somebody has been watching you.

A sudden, rather conspicuous sound interrupted your thoughts—a cough, a bit too deliberate to be mistaken for anything but an attempt to attract attention. You glanced over your shoulder and saw Sungchan right behind you.

You took a step back and landed on his chest. 

Well, fuck. That’s a muscular chest.

The firmness against your back was a stark contrast to what you’d expected.

Sungchan’s chest felt rock hard, and this caused you to doubt reality. He usually wore loose, oversized clothes to work. The realization was jarring, and admittedly, you were stunned by the contact.

Sungchan's hands instinctively gripped your shoulders to steady you. The touch, though brief, sent a peculiar shiver through you. It was an innocent gesture, but there was something about his touch that had you feeling strange down there.

Fuck again, because you’ve been sex-deprived. 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you’ve been with a man. Maybe six, seven years ago? The new toy from Temu is not that powerful, btw.

Sungchan had been a fixture in the office for some time now- though he had never quite settled into the role of a familiar face. He’d appeared one day, unceremoniously, without much introduction to the rest of the team. 

From what you could gather, he and your boss, Shotaro were part-timers for a different clothing company right before Shotaro opened up his own clothing line, and that Sungchan was someone pirated to be a set builder for the photo shoots. Other than being a set builder, you really didn’t know his purpose for standing like a lamp post for the whole duration of the shoots your team did.

“Whoa, sorry!” you quickly apologized, stepping away, your voice betraying a hint of the confusion you felt. “I didn’t see you there.”

Sungchan’s face flushed a deeper shade of red, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “No, it’s okay. I should have said something earlier. Uh, anyway, I didn’t mean to listen, but does your offer still stand?”

The question caught you by surprise. 

“What do you mean?”

He paused for a moment, then added, “I overheard your invite to Eunseok, If the offer’s still on the table, I happen to know the owner of that speakeasy, so I can pull some strings and get us a good seat. He’s been wanting me to check it out, but I didn’t wanna drink alone.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Oh, really? Well, I wasn’t expecting this, but...”

He leaned on the wall and crossed his arms while his eyes followed your lips.

Good Lord, why was he like that???

“But?”

You studied his expression for a moment, the earlier touch still lingering in your thoughts. 

Yeah, what’s there to lose? It’s not a date anyway.

“Yeah, why not?”

The corners of his mouth curved into a smirk. “See you there? Around 8?”

As he walked away, you couldn't help but wonder what this evening would bring.

 It wasn’t a date—just two colleagues hanging out—but something about the way he looked at you made it feel different, almost thrilling.

——————————————————————————————————————-

The speakeasy was dimly lit, with Honey by Raveena filling the air. 

You arrived just before 8, scanning the room until you spotted Sungchan. 

He looked effortlessly cool in a simple black shirt and an oversized leather jacket, his presence commanding yet understated.

You felt incredibly out of place with your linen shirt, brown cardigan and tiny pearl earrings.

As you approached, he stood and gave you a nod, pulling out a chair for you. "Hey, you made it," he said, his tone warm but reserved.

"Yeah, wouldn't miss it," you replied, taking your seat and almost tripping on your black boots.

“Careful there.”

Long before you knew, his hand was already at the small of your back- ready to catch you.

The conversation flowed easily, with Sungchan proving to be an attentive listener. 

Unlike Eunseok's playful banter and slapstick humor, Sungchan's manner was gallant and curt- and a bit mysterious. 

You would jump from one topic to another, but you swore, his eyes were on your lips the whole time.

What the fuck? Does he want a kiss? Because damn, he’s good looking, and I can use a kiss or two.

Oh seriously? Fuck your sexual frustrations.

You found yourself intrigued by him, though unsure if you were attracted to him or simply sexually frustrated.

He ordered drinks for both of you- one margarita with smoked salt and one glass of negroni, ensuring you had everything you needed- from the way he brought the hand sanitizer closer to you and even asked if you wanted to order more.

“Yeah, I always see you use alcohol sprays.” He mumbled.

It was just his mere observation, but you felt a knot in your stomach.

You had to speak to interrupt your delusion. “I like this place. Tell your friend my congratulations on the opening of his cocktail bar. Wonbin, was it?”

He nodded, examining how your tongue licked the rim of the glass.

So this is what snakes in the zoo cage felt like.

Just as the evening seemed to be settling into a comfortable rhythm, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting to one of concern and frustration. "I'm really sorry, but I need to go. It’s Shoraro, and he needs help.”

You grimaced, appreciating his straightforwardness. “Go, go. It’s our boss.”

He stood, reaching for his wallet. "I'll cover the drinks. Again, sorry about this."

"Don't worry about it," you said, genuinely meaning it. Sungchan had been a perfect gentleman, and you couldn't fault him for needing to leave.

Besides, Shotaro’s not the type to call after work-hours. It had to be something important.

As Sungchan was about to head out, you instinctively went in for a friendly hug-  a habit from your interactions with friends before parting ways. Sungchan froze before deciding to lean in as well, and in an unplanned moment, his lips brushed against your lower lip. The touch was brief but electric, leaving you dazed.

He pulled back, eyes wide with surprise. "I... uh, sorry," he stammered for the first time tonight.

You shook your head quickly, feeling a rush of unexpected warmth. "It's fine. Really. Stupid me, actually!”

Sungchan gave you a small, almost shy smile before turning to leave. "I'll see you around," he said, his voice soft but certain.

As he walked away, you couldn't help but touch your lip where his had brushed against, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside you. The night had been cut short, but it left you with more questions than answers about Sungchan.

-------------------------------------------------

Part 2 for those who want to take a risk

[ivoryminitower]

FFXIV Write 2024 prompt 28: Deleterious

I wish Husband had told me when I went out to gather maple logs yesterday that we would need more than usual.  But I suppose he did not yet know.  Still, it was not how I had planned to spend this morning.

We had come to the bar after dinner and had not yet found stools when Sam gave us some news.  "Deputy Frank came by.  Seems he's gonna be inspectin' the workshop on a reg'lar basis."

Husband peered at Sam.  "He can get warrants on a regular basis?"

"He claims he don't need 'em.  That the shed's just part o' the bar."

"What happened to all that landlord-tenant stuff we talked about?"

"He says that only counts if there's a lease.  Which, per whatever issues you got, you 'n I don't have."

"Okay, but that means it's your shed, right?  So you can require a warrant?"

Sam sighed.  "Establishments that serve alcohol are subject to inspection on a reg'lar basis to ensure there are no activities bein' conducted that are threatenin' or deleterious to the community."

Husband simply stared at him.

"He can inspect the bar, shed's part o' the bar…" Sam shrugged.  "He can inspect the shed."

"So he can just walk in at any time?  I can't even, like, put a sock on the doorknob or something?"

I did not know what this meant.  Sam apparently did.  He smirked. "This establishment does not provide facilities fer adult entertainment."

"I mean…can I at least lock the door?  Make him knock?"

"S'pose so.  Though I dunno if he watches bad cop shows…he might try to kick the door down if he hears sounds o' distress."

Deputy Frank has seemed to make a hobby of watching us, sometimes as we work at the diner, and only rarely as we work at the bar.  Sam thinks it is because we are new in town, and there is very little else happening in the county to distract him.  It may also be because sometimes strange things happen around us, and those who might have seen them have nothing to say to Frank if he asks them.

Husband and I do sometimes spend casual time in the workshop, but it is not very comfortable for what I think Sam meant by "adult entertainment."  But we do our Eorzean crafting there, which Husband has said we should not do in front of others.  So we would not want Frank walking in on us unexpectedly.

Husband was not happy about the news.  I was not either, but he seemed to be taking it hard.  He leaned against the back of a chair, his eyes not focused on anything in particular.

Then he lifted the chair and slammed it into the floor, smashing it.

He punched the table that was next to the chair, splitting it in two.  He grabbed two chairs and crushed them together.  He stomped to another table and continued his rampage, as if the room's furniture was his solo duty.

Sam and I watched silently from the bar.  When Husband at last seemed to run out of rage, he stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by debris.  His head and shoulders drooped.

Sam quietly said, "Y'know…yer just makin' more work fer yerself…"

"Something for Frank to walk in on," Husband muttered.  After a moment he made himself straighten.  "Guess I'll get started on the replacements."  He headed through the back to the workshop.

I turned to Sam and smiled.  "I will pick up the pieces."

"Don't ferget yer shift.  Yer husband get like this a lot?"

"When we were…on deployment, there was usually a good target for anger."

"Remind him he ain't on deployment now?"

"I will."

(Based on Echoes of Home, hosted on Wattpad.)

[nerdfighterwhatevernumbers]

i’m glad the last couple days work has been letting me focus on cleaning just one aisle- I still sweep through every aisle and pick up stuff that doesn’t belong there, but for a long time they’d have like 4 aisles listed for me to focus on in one shift and i can’t get nearly as much done with that

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

#64 Being a sneaky, former burglar, Nori needs Bilbo to do some spy work for him.

(i just love Nori, and wish we had more blustering Bilbo and notorious Nori in-cahoots moments) (#78 was a close runner up for my ask! Hibernating Hobbits has my mind running wild! Too flipping cute and perfect!)

First off...THANK YOU FOR JOINING MY LITTLE BLOG! Secondly, I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I got asks within seconds of each other so I tried to answer them in order, just didn't expect it to take this long. 😅 But I also love Bilbo and Nori tag teams. This didn't quite go that way...but I hope you enjoy it all the same. 😉

Nori Needs a Burglar

Rating: T

Warnings: N/A

Words: 5007

Bilbo loved his husband dearly, but Thorin was not a people person. The dwarf could rally his troops to action, he could give inspiring speeches that moved you in ways you never expected, but ask him to ‘interact with the people’ and he was worse than a tween with a flower and a crush. So part of Bilbo’s more prominent duties as Consort, was to go down to the Markets once a week, and talk policy with the ‘common dwarf’. Honestly, it was no hardship for Bilbo. He was able to complete his shopping and most of the time, get a pleasant conversation out of the effort. The mountain adored Thorin, and it did Bilbo’s heart good to know after all the struggles both before and during the quest, it resulted in this.

Bilbo was finishing up a conversation with Demik on his wonderfully crafted throw rugs and the best way to remove wine stains from wool when he felt someone sidle up behind him. Pleasantly surprised, Bilbo spun around only to fall in disappointment.

“Oh. Hello, Nori.” 

“I’m going to pretend like that didn’t hurt, my dear Consort.” Nori mocked putting his hands over his heart in a rather dramatic fashion.

Bilbo didn’t even spare him a glance as he thanked Demik, and carried on with his shopping.

“And how is my favorite hobbit doing on this glorious day?”

“What do you want?” Bilbo demanded.

“Alright, now I am getting just a touch offended. Just what have I done to you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. There was the fake assassination last week…”

“Just trying to keep you on your toes.”

“Nicking my crown three days ago that sent me on a wild goose chase through the mountain?”

“Well…”

“Oh! What about ‘quick Bilbo, the mountain is on fire’? That was yesterday morning.”

The sly dwarf merely smirked at him, his eyes full of mischief. 

“You’ve got to admit. That was funny. Everything in here is stone. Just where is the fire going to go?”

“So no, I’m not in the mood to play whatever game you have concocted today. You’ve been worse than my nephews lately. All three of them, mind you.”

“Okay, but this time…I really need your help with something.”

Bilbo had half a mind to tell his guards to arrest the dwarf. Surely Thorin would be able to survive a few days without his spymaster. However, before Bilbo could state plainly ‘no’ for the second time, Nori had yanked Bilbo into a quiet corner between two buildings. The hobbit grumbled at the rough-handling as he smoothed out his jacket and straightened his crown.

“What?” He demanded, ire dripping into the syllable.

“Look, I know I’ve been playing with you lately, but this is serious. I think someone is stealing from the treasury.”

Any irritation the hobbit felt melted away at the seriousness of the accusation.

“Oh! Well yes, that would be a rather large problem. Do you have any suspects? How do you know?”

“Gloin said there was something off with the books. Right now it’s maybe under two percent. But you know the size of it. They still haven’t gotten it all completely organized, it could easily be much larger than that.”

Bilbo nodded. “Yes, of course. Have you informed Thorin yet?”

Nori winced at this. “I still don’t know how or why they are doing it, and since I can’t rule out goldsickness…”

Bilbo pressed a hand to his chin. He could see Nori’s point. He certainly didn’t believe his husband was in any way capable of succumbing to that terrible disease again, but Thorin would definitely be likely to fly off the handle if such a thing came to light. 

“I thought maybe…since you were our dear Burglar, you might…poke around. See what you can find out.”

Bilbo looked up in shock trying to gauge the dwarf’s seriousness. 

“You want me to spy for you?”

“Don’t think of it like spying.” Nori scoffed. “More like…solving a mystery…in a very quiet and secretive way.”

“And you don’t have your own people to do this?” Bilbo groaned.

“They aren’t familiar with the layout.” Nori shrugged.

“Oh because they didn’t riddle with a dragon, years ago, I might add.”

“I’m just asking you to take a look.”

Bilbo heaved a large sigh before making the mistake of looking back at the earnest expression on the former thief's face.

“Fine. I will look into it.”

Bilbo watched the ginger haired dwarf leave with a smirk and a quick word of thanks, all the while wondering what exactly he had gotten himself into.

***

He figured his first course of action would be to talk to Gloin about the incident personally and get the facts from him. However, when he arrived at the accountants’ office, Gloin was nowhere to be found.

“You’re more than welcome to his books, Your Highness.” Gloin’s assistant, Matum, offered. “They should be in the filing cabinet behind his desk.

Bilbo thanked the dam, stepping inside the rather bland room. He found the books easily enough, and it was only from his years of managing the properties of Bagshot Row that he knew what to look for. He started about four months ago, and worked his way to the present. Sure enough, about six weeks ago, there was a rather noticeable drop. Not enough to be brought to anyone’s attention, but definitely worth questioning. How odd indeed. 

Bilbo thought about it from the perspective of someone trying to steal from the treasury. He was certain they wouldn’t want it to be obvious. Perhaps even come back for more if they were able to get away with it without a problem the first time. Continuing to scan the books, he saw there was in fact another loss almost two weeks ago. Well, there was nothing for it. He was going to have to find out how they were getting in.

Bilbo’s next stop was the treasury itself. He needed to see if there were any other ways to get in and out other than the entrances with guards currently posted. He was given a nod as he entered the golden lit room. He didn’t normally make a habit of returning to the treasury. Too many unpleasant memories, but he did find himself relatively impressed with the organization that has gone into the room. Rather than giant mountains of gold and jewels, everything had been sorted into boxes and chests that were stacked along the outside edges, giving plenty of room for Bilbo to walk on blessed, solid stone. However, as he started to meander deeper into the treasury, he noticed that the ‘boxing’ was less obvious and there were still substantial hills of coin swept aside to be counted later. Nori’s concern of them potentially losing more than what was documented definitely made more sense. Yet, why steal anything that would have been charted at all if that were the case? Bilbo wished he had paid closer attention to the descriptions in Gloin’s books and not just the numbers.

For a moment, Bilbo let himself be transported back in time to darker days where the rest of the Company sifted through coins all day long as they searched for the single object of Thorin’s desire. The Consort shivered at that particular uncomfortable memory, but it seemed to make perfect sense to him. The thieves were after something in particular. Not just looking to get rich where they could. Well, he wouldn’t be able to find out what without checking Gloin’s books again, and honestly had enough to be able to report to Nori. He definitely couldn’t rule out goldsickness, but Nori would at least know where to go from here with his investigation. 

Satisfied, he was just beginning to turn back, when he felt himself trip on something decidedly not a gold coin. Picking the silver cylinder up, he turned it over seeing the crown and stars mold on the end. It was a coin stamp! A rather old stamp by the look of it. Each king had a new one commissioned during their reign, but Bilbo assumed from his lessons with Ori that this particular stamp had to have Khazad-dûm origins. What a unique find! Bilbo had just stuffed it away in his inner pockets when there was a soft ‘thud’, followed by a mumbled curse.

“Hello?” Bilbo called out not thinking.

Silence answered. Goosebumps raised on the back of his arms, and Bilbo found himself seeking the comfort of his little ring. He slipped it on before he could quite justify his actions which seemed to be just in time as two unfamiliar dwarves came out from behind the hill of gold.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s here.” The taller one with the longer beard grimaced, his features distorted just slightly by the grayscale of the ring’s world.

“I swore I heard someone.” The shorter dwarf mumbled.

“They don’t let just one person down in the treasury anymore. Not on account of the king’s former sickness.”

“They let the Consort.”

“What’s the Consort going to be doing here at this time of day? ‘Specially with the Company thing happening today.”

“Right…” The shorter dwarf agreed, still looking far from reassured.

“Now come on. Before we’ve got Forlen on our case wondering ‘what took so long’.”

Bilbo filed away the ‘Company thing’ that he clearly should know about, and began to follow them. He could summon the guards and have these two arrested right here, but there was at least a third, and if he was lucky with his little ring, maybe he could find their hiding spot! Bilbo had to follow at a distance as the ‘clink’ of the loose coins threatened to give him away to the criminals. They headed over to the wall that Bilbo was pretty sure contained…relics? Heirlooms? Something to that effect, Bilbo was sure. Using a rather clever lift system, one of them was able to hold up the boxes with two prongs and the mountain’s rock, while the other shifted the bottom box out from underneath. Then the precariously balanced stack was carefully lowered back to the ground. The higher boxes wavered with the new dynamic, but did not fall. Quite clever indeed.

Each of the thieves hefting an end, they started to walk, not back towards any of the entrances, but towards Bilbo. Despite knowing they couldn’t see him, Bilbo hid around a stack of boxes anyways. They marched past him back towards the endless pile of coins. Bilbo resisted the urge to sigh heavily before following them. Once again, he was having to maintain his distance so a third set of footfalls shifting the coins was not heard. However, Bilbo was floored when they suddenly vanished. He gave it a few minutes, made sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, and then immediately rushed to the spot. The hobbit scratched the top of his head walking along the bank of gold as he tried to puzzle it out. Perhaps the dwarves also had a magic ring of sorts? Just when Bilbo was about to give up and return to his earlier plan, he stepped in a place where the ground suddenly gave out from beneath him, and with a yelp he found himself sliding into a crevice dug into the floor of the treasury.

Bilbo landed hard on his bottom on a rather large pile of golden coins in the center of what appeared to be some sort of outdated meeting room. He looked back upwards to make out the smooth hidden stairs carved next to the large crevice and wondered just how long this room had been here. Did Thorin even know about it? Bilbo heard a gasp and spun around to see a red haired dwarf, whom he recognized as the shorter one of the duo, staring right at him. Dread filled him as he looked down at his finger to see that his magic ring slipped off in the fall. His eyes immediately left the thief as it scanned the ground desperately. There! He pounced on the ring, slipping it on just as the second dwarf was called in.

“What the…?!”

Bilbo pressed himself up against the wall as far as he could as the two charged to the spot where he had just vanished. 

“The Consort! The Consort was here!” The red headed dwarf stammered.

“Where did he go?! How did he disappear like that?” The taller of the duo demanded.

“Maybe he’s a ghost!”

“If he’s a ghost, how can he be married to the King?! No, this is some sort of…hobbit magic, this is. I bet he’s still in this room! We just gotta find him.”

Bilbo held his breath as he slowly started to inch past them towards the doorway. He used his mental map of Erebor, trying to pinpoint exactly where he was with little success. Below the treasury…what was below the treasury besides mining tunnels and offices? The main thing was to just get out. Surely, he would be able to figure it out from there. Bilbo was almost out of the room, when a third dwarf entered, nearly bowing Bilbo over in the process as the hobbit scrambled back against the wall.

“Just what is going on here?” 

Bilbo paused. He knew that voice. How did he know that voice? He wished the magic of the ring didn’t wash everything out so he could see distinguishing features. 

“We saw the Consort!” The first dwarf explained. “There! And then ‘poof’ he disappeared before our eyes.”

The third dwarf narrowed his eyes, scanning the area as if he could make Bilbo materialize with just a look.

“What is it, Forlen?” A voice grunted from the second room.

“Nothing, Nadad (Brother).” He finally decided, ordering the two from earlier to get back to work.

Bilbo could only follow, though, with his jaw dropped open. He finally realized why the dwarf seemed familiar, and following him down the hallway into the other room sealed it for Bilbo. Nallen, a member of the mining council, was seated on a tattered couch as he sifted through the stolen box. Bilbo had never really had a great repertoire with the dwarf. Apparently, his family were the former Chief Foremans, and he had thought it was a position he would inherit as well until Thorin gave the position to Bofur. He had made his disdain of that choice, and the current direction of Erebor, quite clear. 

So Nallen and his brother, Forlen, were the heads of this operation. Just what was the operation though? In any case, this was certainly more than enough to take back to Nori. 

“What was the problem?” Nallen asked.

“The idiots thought they had seen the King’s Consort.” Forlen snorted, returning to his spot beside him.

Nallen stopped, giving his brother a sharp look. “Did they?”

Forlen shrugged seemingly unbothered. “If they did, he’s gone now.”

Nallen slammed his fists down on the table making everything jump, including Bilbo himself.

“Thorin can’t know what we’re trying to find down here. If there’s even a small chance that the hobbit was here, he can’t be allowed to leave.”

“What are you asking of me? Kidnap and kill the Consort?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Cold seemed straight into Bilbo’s bones, and that more than settled it for him. It was time to get out! There was a door on the other side of the room. That had to be the way out. He slowly started to sneak his way there, when the two dwarves from early burst into the room, leaving Bilbo scrambling out of the way once more.

“He’s not back in the treasury!” The shorter one complained. “Maybe he can just ‘pop’ in and out of places, like magic.”

“No! He has to be here somewhere!” Nallen growled. “I refuse to believe we’ve lost all this progress because that nosy little weasel has the uncanny ability of showing up where he’s not wanted.”

Bilbo could feel his face growing hot. Weasel! He’ll show that clot-head. 

“What progress?” The taller of the grunts snorted.

“It’s got to surface soon! And the moment it does, we will have complete control of the crown’s coin…”

Bilbo walked over to the door, opened it slowly so that way it caught every dwarven eye. Only he realized belatedly that he wished he had been a bit slower as Nallen’s sentence tapered off.

“THERE HE GOES! After him!” Forlen roared.

Bilbo stood back watching the four of them sprint by him with weapons drawn. Well, that was easy enough. Once he was in the clear, he stepped out of the room to follow. The small hiccup being they were long gone, and Bilbo still wasn’t completely sure where he was. The hobbit heaved a sigh before deciding to head in the general “up” direction. Crystal lamps hung every twenty feet so at least it wasn’t a completely abandoned tunnel. Hopefully, he would run into a dwarf sooner or later, and even more so, hopefully it wasn’t one of his pursuers. Bilbo passed doorway after doorway, not sure if he should try one of them or even if he was still going straight at all. He had been known to get stuck in circles in the mountain in his early years. He had to believe he was well past that now.

Muttering sounded from behind him, and he froze before quickly ducking away into a shadowy corner. 

“Distract my hobbit, quit irritating my hobbit, go and fetch my hobbit. I might as well be his nursemaid instead of Spymaster.”

“Nori!” Bilbo shouted as he pulled off his ring.

He had to say, he derived a small amount of satisfaction watching the sneaky dwarf jump and draw his knife. Seeing it was only Bilbo, Nori rolled his eyes, muttering curses under his breath. 

“And where exactly have you been?” He demanded.

Bilbo furrowed his brows. “Investigating. Like you asked me.”

“It shouldn’t have taken you that long though.” Nori complained.

Bilbo crossed his arms, more than just a touch offended. “Well pardon me. Next time, I leave finding Nallen and his cohorts to you seeing as you’re so much better than me. Honestly, why even ask me in the first place if you’re just going to…”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” Nori interrupted, waving his hands. “Nallen? What’s he have to do with anything?”

“He’s your thief.” Bilbo explained. “Well, one of them anyways. His brother and what I’m assuming are two hired hands are also in on it. They have a secret room underneath the treasury and everything.”

Nori’s eyes seemed to get wider and wider, when they both perked up at the sound of approaching bootsteps. 

“That’s probably them.” Bilbo muttered. “Forgot to mention that they are currently hunting for me, and don’t seem too opposed to regicide.”

Nori gave Bilbo an incredulous look while shaking his head. 

“Only you. Alright, this way. Quickly now.”

Bilbo didn’t have much time, or reason really, to protest before Nori was leading him back down the hallway to knock on the first door on the left. Assuming this had to be one of Nori’s secret spy rooms, he didn’t really know what to expect. Dwalin opening the door to reveal all of his friends and family certainly was the furthest thing from his mind. 

“I stand corrected. That was fast.” The burly dwarf smirked as the rest of the room shouted.

“SURPRISE!”

Bilbo’s jaw dropped as he tried to work out what exactly was happening. 

“What? I…what?”

“I told you he wouldn’t know how to handle it.” Frodo remarked cheekily as Fili and Kili snickered in agreement.

“We wanted to surprise you.” Thorin answered proudly.

Bilbo went blank as he tried to remember just what anniversary or dwarvish holiday he was forgetting.

“Surprise me…why?” He finally had to ask.

“With Bilbo Day!” Frodo exclaimed enthusiastically.

“You rarely allow us to make any sort of fuss over you.” Dis inserted as if this were some sort of grave insult.

“No presents on your birthday, no presents on your wedding anniversary, and let’s not even mention the Yule fiasco!” Bofur listed off.

“So we decided to celebrate the first day we met!” Dori took over. “You know, when we burst into your smial and ate all your larder as you seem so apt to remind us.”

Bilbo found himself too overwhelmed to say anything. It was just so…kind. Everything else seemed to leave his mind in the wake of such a gift. 

“Oh well, I don’t know what to say. Truly. I suppose…”

“Yeah, yeah. Save it for when we don’t have dwarves trying to kill you.” Nori interrupted.

The entire room went completely silent, and Bilbo found himself embarrassed with the dwarf’s outburst for no good reason other than it ruined the merry atmosphere. His eyes lingered on the colorful decorations, gifts, and cake before he hefted a sigh.

“Fine. Let’s go take care of the scoundrels first.”

“Bilbo…Ghivashel (treasure of all treasures)...what is going on?” Thorin questioned, his face a thunderstorm of emotions.

“What did you do?” Dwalin demanded of Nori, pulling out his axe.

“It’s not my fault the hobbit is an accident magnet.” Nori grumbled.

“I found the thieves.” Bilbo explained.

Everyone’s answering silence reminded Bilbo that Nori had asked him to complete this task in secret, and therefore they were unaware of the events that would have led to this point.

“Nori asked me to investigate the discrepancy in the books.” Bilbo explained, nodding at Gloin.

The red headed dwarf laughed. “Oh lad, Nori came up with that scheme to distract you. We both decided ages ago that it probably wasn’t anything more than a miscalculation.”

Bilbo’s brows furrowed as his mouth twisted into a scowl and he turned to the spy for an answer. The red head answered with one of his own before announcing his mistake for everyone with much reluctance.

“Turns out, it was actually Nallen.”

“Nallen?” Balin gasped. “But what does he want with gold?”

“It’s not gold.” Bilbo stepped in at that point. “There’s something specific he and his brother are looking for. I wasn’t able to find out what exactly, but they have a secret room with direct access to the treasury and…”

“Hold on just a moment.” Thorin demanded with his hand held up and eyes pinched shut. “Just so I have this straight, you, Nori, my Spymaster, sent my Consort to do your dirty work on a raid of the Treasury, that I didn’t even know about.”

“It didn’t look like a big deal!...On paper, at least.” He tried to defend.

“And it’s a former member of my council who wants Bilbo dead?”

“To be fair on the last point, it’s only because they saw me. I don’t think murdering me was on his original checklist.” Bilbo defended.

Thorin looked pained before groaning and pulling Orcist from his belt. 

“Very well. Lead the way.”

“Yes!” Gimli cheered, axe in hand. “Let me at these villains, I’m more than up to the task!”

“Now hang on there, son. Just how many are we talking here, Bilbo?” Gloin questioned.

“Oh. There’s only four.” He shrugged.

There seemed to be a release of tension in the room as everyone shared quiet smirks and laughs.

“Alright then, let’s show these guys exactly how we feel about those who mess with our hobbit.” Bofur declared only to be met with a round of cheers.

“Lead the way, Uncle Bilbo.” Kili encouraged.

Bilbo tried not to fidget. 

“I…don’t really know the way.”

“You didn’t mark the door?” Nori sighed in exasperation.

“I don’t think you have room to talk right now.” Bilbo snapped. “It’s directly under the back end of the treasury. Where it still hasn’t been sorted.”

“Aye, but there’s miles of treasure still in there.” Gloin complained.

“Well, I didn’t walk for miles.” Bilbo retorted.

“That does narrow it down a bit.” Bofur chuckled. “But I know there are three distinct branches down there.”

“Then we split up. Dwalin, Nori, Balin, and Gloin with Bilbo and I. Bofur take another group, and Bifur the last.” Thorin directed.

“Aye, I’ll take the youngins. Try to keep them out of trouble.” Bofur announced.

Bilbo wasn’t too keen on his youngest nephew going on a hunt for dangerous criminals, but he knew Fili and Kili were overly protective of Frodo. They would make sure he didn’t get hurt. Instead, he tried to focus on leading his group back the way he came. Dwalin seemed especially smug towards Nori for not realizing that the treasury problem was an actual problem which made it hard for Bilbo’s hobbit ears to pick up on any distinguishing sounds. A hand ghosted across his arm, and Bilbo immediately turned his head to see Thorin’s concerned face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his brows pinched together.

“Fine!” Bilbo answered reflexively before amending his statement. “A bit overwhelmed to be honest. I really just thought I was helping Nori out by doing a bit of investigating. I never dreamt I’d actually find anyone! And this whole party business has me all out of sorts!”

Thorin chuckled fondly as he gently squeezed Bilbo’s hand. “Only you would treat a party in your honor as a worse offense than being chased by criminals intent on doing you harm.”

“Well only if they caught me.” Bilbo returned cheekily.

Thorin leaned over to press a kiss to Bilbo’s curls.

“Nori is right though. You do have a knack for finding trouble.”

Bilbo scolded as he slapped Thorin's arm, pulling away from his offending husband. He didn’t get too far though before Thorin swung a large arm around Bilbo’s shoulders pulling him in close in a half-hug while whispering in his ear.

“You also have a knack for getting out of trouble again, and for that I am grateful.”

Bilbo still wore his pout. “If I have any sort of relationship with trouble, it’s all you dwarves' fault. Getting me out of my hobbit hole…I was entirely respectable and trouble-free before I met you lot.”

Thorin laughed again, always succeeding in making Bilbo feel lighter until Nori had to ruin it again.

“Flirt later! Focus on finding this room now.” 

Thorin turned back to Nori with a disapproving look.

“I don’t know if you have any room to talk after sending my Consort on a dangerous mission in the first place.”

“I didn’t know anything would actually come of it!” He tried to defend.

“It’s your job to know.” Thorin snapped back.

Nori gestured helplessly. “There wasn’t anything to know! It’s not my fault the self-proclaimed luck wearer over here can find trouble faster than I can blink. In fact, if you really want all plots against the kingdom exposed within the week, you let me hire him full time...”

“No!” Came everyone’s resonating answer.

It was then that Bilbo realized one of the doors seemed less dusty than the others. 

“I think this is it.” He determined as he peeked his head in.

Nallen and Forlen were inside gathering up as much as they could, but paused upon seeing Bilbo. A nasty grin overtook the former’s face. 

“Well if it isn’t our dear Consort. We’ve been wondering where you wandered off to. Did you get lost hobbit?”

Bilbo smirked. “No, I got back-up.”

Their faces fell as soon as he opened the door fully to reveal the dwarves behind him.

***

It was quick work to gather the other two, and Dwalin pulled out irons to slap on their wrists as Gloin and Balin took stock of the stolen goods as well as the stairs leading up to the treasury.

“Explain.” Thorin demanded.

Nallen stubbornly kept his mouth closed. Thorin turned his sights onto his cohorts. 

“Not even to lighten your sentence? Petty thievery is one thing, but threatening the life of the Consort…”

It was the shorter one with red hair that broke first. 

“It was a coin stamp, Y-Your Grace. We would never have actually hurt Consort Baggins…”

“Shut up!” Forlen hissed, but the damage had been done.

“Coin stamp?” Balin repeated in confusion. “His Majesty’s coin stamp is kept with the Master of the Coin. It wouldn’t be down in the treasury.”

“Oh!” Bilbo exclaimed, suddenly remembering the coin stamp he had stuffed away in a pocket. “Could this be what you all were looking for?”

Nallen’s face was almost purple with his spluttering. “What?! B-But you…! How did you…?”

“I found it.” Bilbo shrugged.

Gloin took it reverently. “This is the stamp of Durin VI of Khazad-dum!”

“And probably would have made quite the profit if gold coins with this stamp suddenly began to appear in Erebor.” Balin raised an eyebrow.

“That sounds like motive enough to me.” Thorin smirked. “Dwalin, why don’t you and Gloin escort our guests to the dungeons to await their trial.”

The two dwarves were more than happy to comply, especially after Nallen started to whine about it ‘not being fair’. Nori was almost flabbergasted watching the proceedings before turning to Thorin with a pleading look. The king already knew what he was thinking though and had an answer ready.

“No.” 

“He found the coin stamp of Durin VI! Just let me borrow him for one week!” Nori protested.

Thorin wrapped his hand firmly around Bilbo’s as he started to lead the hobbit away.

“Sorry, but my husband will be indisposed for the foreseeable future, and even then my hobbit.”

Nori grumbled under his breath as they left him with Balin to take stock of the hidden room. Bilbo chuckled as he leaned into Thorin, more than pleased with this situation.

“So we’re not going back to the party then?”

Thorin gave him a very specific look that successfully sent shivers of anticipation down Bilbo’s spine.

“We can just say it’s my own personal celebration of Bilbo Day.”

“Then by all means, lead the way, My King.”

[little-mad]

Red-Handed Doll in a Little Blue House

Part 1/?

Idrk exactly what this is, I just kind of felt like writing something and this happened.

Mrs. Morrison’s driveway was decorated from the curb all the way up into the garage with a stunning assortment of various items. There were stacks of old books, totes full of hand-painted china, racks of vintage clothes, and much, much more. 

The old woman’s collection had drawn a small crowd of neighbors to converge on 118 King Street. I was one such neighbor. 

“Since I’m going to be moving in with my daughter next month, I figured it was time to get rid of some of this old stuff,” Mrs. Morrison explained to one of my other neighbors. She sat in a folding chair inside the garage, a small wooden table with a cash box on top of it beside her. 

I wandered aimlessly between the rows and rows of stuff. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, or necessarily even intending on buying anything. After returning home from college for summer break a week ago, I had found myself becoming increasingly bored out of my mind. Once I had complained for the third time that day, my mom had insisted I entertain myself by browsing Mrs. Morrison’s yard sale.

And so here I was wandering around among an elderly woman’s old odds and ends. 

“Auntie Sandra!” a familiar voice exclaimed from behind me. 

I whipped around to see my little six year old niece dashing down the sidewalk, blond pigtails bouncing up and down as she ran. “Hey, kiddo! What’re you doing here?” I dropped down to crouch just in time for her three foot body to collide into me for a hug. 

“We accidentally left Nora’s dance bag at mom’s house last time we were there so we came to pick it up before her class.” I glanced over my niece’s shoulder to see my older sister, Holly standing there, the aforementioned pink dance bag slung over her shoulder. “When mom told us you were over here, Nora insisted on coming to say hi.”

“Aw, well I’m glad to see you,” I told Nora as she finally pulled out of the hug. “You just got back from a camping trip yesterday, didn’t you? I bet that was fun.” 

“Yeah, we got to have lots of s’mores,” Nora remarked with a toothy grin. 

I gave Nora a quick cheek pinch before straightening back up. “I’m still good to come over tomorrow, right?” I asked my sister, who was glancing at her watch anxiously. 

“Huh? Oh yeah, of course. Todd’s planning on grilling burgers.” 

“Mommy, look at this!” Neither Holly nor I had noticed little Nora slipping off until she called out. I turned around to see the six year old pointing up at a rather elaborate looking dollhouse sitting atop a card table. “Can I have it?” 

The house was undeniably impressive, even from a distance I could tell it had been intricately crafted. It seemed to have been designed in a classic Victorian style, complete with a witch’s hat turret and fish-scale shingles. It was no surprise that it had caught Nora’s eye. 

“Nora honey, your birthday is only three days away and your daddy and I have already bought your gifts,” Holly explained in a gentle tone. 

“But I want this!”

“I understand, sweetie, but we really don’t have time for this,” Holly insisted with another worried glance at her watch. “We have to get you to dance class.” 

Nora opened her mouth as if she wanted to argue further, but seemed to decide against it. Instead she put on her most pitiful pouty face and dejectedly shuffled her way over to her mother. 

“I promise you’ll get lots of fun presents for your birthday,” Holly assured her daughter as she took a hold of her little hand. She then turned her attention to me. “Sorry we have to rush off, we’ll see you tomorrow though!”

With one last wave from my sister, and a miserable look from Nora, the two set off. As soon as they were out of sight I reached into my pocket to extract the wad of cash I had blindly grabbed out of my wallet on the way out of the house. I hadn’t really been planning on getting anything from the yard sale, but it had seemed silly to go to one without any money whatsoever. 

I thumbed through the bills to determine I had about thirty bucks. It was everything I had withdrawn from the ATM a couple weeks ago, but I had no idea if it would be enough to cover the cost of the dollhouse. 

It had been my intention to go out in the next day or so and buy something to give to Nora for her birthday. Holly had given me a couple ideas including a new Polly Pocket set, a Beanie Baby monkey, or a purple tutu that would match with her purple leotard. However, all those ideas flew out the window the moment I saw the longing in Nora’s eyes as she looked at that dollhouse. 

Anxiously I approached the card table on which the magnificent miniature structure sat. I braced myself as I glanced down at the folded notecard which listed the item’s price. 

In thick red letters the card read “$25.” I couldn’t believe it. The house must’ve cost at least five times that to make, and yet Mrs. Morrison was selling it so cheap. I had to wonder if she was aware of how valuable it could be, or if she simply didn’t care. Either way, I wasn’t going to let the opportunity go to waste. 

“Mrs. Morrison!” I waved my wad of cash in the air as I jogged up to where the old woman sat in the garage. “I’d like to buy that dollhouse.” 

“Oh, Sandra dear, so good to see you back in town,” Mrs. Morrison greeted, a friendly smile forming on her wrinkled face. “But, I’m afraid I already sold that house to this young man here.” 

My gaze snapped to the side, suddenly taking note of the guy who had been standing there this whole time. While Mrs. Morrison calling someone young could mean anything below about seventy-five, this guy appeared to be quite young—like around my age, certainly no older than twenty-three or twenty-four. He was a couple inches taller than me and possessed a somewhat narrow face and pointed features. His light brown hair was styled in a tousled curtain cut reminiscent of ones I had seen on TV actors. 

“Who are you?” I questioned, eyebrows raised and arms folded over my chest. 

“This is Wyatt Lutz, he’s moving into his aunt and uncle’s place,” Mrs. Morrison spoke up before the man could answer for himself. “An awful big house for just one person, I hope you won’t get too lonely, dear.” She offered the man, Wyatt apparently was his name, a friendly smile before turning her attention to slipping the stack of bills in her hand into the cashbox. 

“Um, well actually I was really hoping I could buy that dollhouse for my niece,” I started, gaze going back and forth between Mrs. Morrison and Wyatt. “It’s her birthday in a couple days and I wanted to surprise her.” 

A sympathetic look crossed Mrs. Morrison’s face, even as she continued to stuff her recently obtained money away. “Aw, I’m sorry, sweetie. I already promised this gentleman he could have it.” 

I restrained myself from glaring darkly as I shifted my focus over to Wyatt. What did a grown man need with a dollhouse anyways? Was he planning on giving it to a younger relative as well? 

“Sorry, I hope you find something for your niece.” And that was all I got from the guy before he turned back to Mrs. Morrison. “Hey, is it alright if I pick it up tomorrow? I’d like to get a little more unpacked before I bring anything new in.” 

“Sure, that’s just fine. I’ll leave it out for you.” 

“Great, thanks.” With one last wave to Mrs. Morrison, Wyatt started off down the driveway. 

“What the hell is wrong with this guy?” I thought to myself as I watched him make his way towards the sidewalk. How could he be so dismissive and rude? He’d hardly spared me a glance, let alone given me the chance to plead my case for the dollhouse. 

I nearly ground my teeth together from how tightly I had clenched my jaw. This wasn’t right. All I wanted to do was give Nora the kind of present she deserved, and this random new guy in the neighborhood had swooped in and taken it away from me. No, no way was that going to fly. 

Fist clenched at my sides, I stormed out of the garage after Wyatt. By the time I reached him he was already a ways down the sidewalk, headed towards the opposite end of the street from where I lived. 

“Excuse me.” I halted in place, arms folded over my chest. 

With a slow turn, Wyatt rotated around to look at me. “Uh, yes?” 

I took a moment to look the man over in more detail. He was dressed in a pair of baggy jeans that had been rolled up at the ankles. Tucked into the waistline of his jeans was a plain, oversized, white t-shirt. It was nothing flashy, though he was admittedly better dressed than a lot of the guys I knew back on campus. 

With an imperceptible shake of my head, I forced myself to abandon those thoughts and focus on the matter at hand. “I was wondering if there was any way I could convince you to let me have that dollhouse,” I stated, trying to employ the persuasion skills I had been taught in my communications class. 

Wyatt stuck his hands into his pockets. “I don’t think so.” There was absolutely zero sympathy in those hazel eyes of his. He just stared back at me with an emotionless expression on his face. 

I forced myself not to allow a scowl to cross my features. “And why not?” I questioned, keeping my tone as even as possible. 

“Because I want to have it.” The answer was so simple, and maybe I should have given him some credit for being so honest, but I was getting far too peeved off for that. 

“But my niece really wanted it–”

“No offense to your niece or anything, but a piece of fine craftsmanship like that does not belong in the hands of a child.” 

My jaw nearly dropped. Was I hearing that right? Was this guy seriously saying that a dollhouse, a literal children’s toy, didn't belong in the hands of a child?!

“What do you want it for then?” I demanded, all former pretense of civility quickly abandoned. 

Wyatt lifted a single eyebrow as he looked at me, as though he were scrutinizing an interesting but still inferior creature. “I collect handcrafted dollhouses,” he stated simply; and before I got the chance to even conjure up a response, he was turning back around and walking down the sidewalk again. 

I thought about yelling after him, I even thought about chasing him down and demanding he explain to my little niece why he deserved the dollhouse more than her, but instead my mind started to think some devious thoughts. 

Wyatt wouldn’t be picking up the dollhouse until tomorrow, and I doubted Mrs. Morrison intended on taking all of her leftover merchandise inside overnight. It wasn’t forecasted to rain, and our neighborhood was far from being known as dangerous in any capacity—most houses left their front doors unlocked for god’s sake. No, Mrs. Morrison would leave the dollhouse out on the driveway overnight and there would be nothing to stop me from snagging it for myself. 

Was it a sneaky, underhanded plan? Sure, but what was worse: a little harmless robbery, or taking a dollhouse away from a sweet little girl on her birthday? Wyatt would be the only one negatively impacted, and he would surely get over it soon enough and find another handcrafted dollhouse for his precious collection. 

And so, a quarter past midnight, I slipped out the back door of my house and snuck my way over to Mrs. Morrison’s property. As expected, the dollhouse remained sitting atop the card table, just waiting for me to nab it. 

As I approached the table, I fished thirty dollars in cash out of my pocket. Just in case Wyatt gave old Mrs. Morrison a hard time about the missing dollhouse and demanded his money back, I would leave some cash as a means of compensation.

I looked over the large dollhouse once again as I set the money down on the table. It really was beautiful. I could understand why someone would want to add it to their collection—but still, it wasn’t worth depriving a child of joy, and plus, Wyatt had been a total ass about the whole situation, he deserved what he had coming. 

Now feeling affirmed in my actions, I took a deep breath and reached out to wrap my arms around the dollhouse. Despite being a miniature house, it was quite large, definitely larger than any of the dollhouses I’d had as a kid. I was hoping it wouldn’t be too heavy to carry on my own, otherwise I would have to reevaluate my whole plan altogether. 

However, I didn’t even get the chance to lift the thing up. The moment my hand made contact with the little structure I felt some kind of jolt zip throughout my entire body. I only had a brief moment of shock before I found myself inexplicably snapping into unwilful unconsciousness. 

---

Awareness suddenly whizzed through my brain and body like a bolt of electricity. I shot up into a seated position as my eyes flew open, instantly searching for any sign of a threat. 

The sight I was met with was not immediately hostile, but it was unfamiliar, which was certainly alarming in and of itself. 

Rather than being in my own bed at home, or even my bed back in my college apartment, I was in one which was completely foreign to me. It was a wooden four poster bed, complete with intricate carvings set into the headboard and footboard. Instead of being tucked under the sheets, I was laying atop the thick comforter made of an emerald green brocade. 

The rest of the room appeared to be equally as extravagant and old fashioned. There was a heavy looking wooden vanity in the corner of the room, a pair of padded fabric armchairs, and an end table with a little glass lamp on top of it. 

The lamp was not on, however. In fact the room was fairly dark, with the only illumination coming from the large rectangular window. 

I could feel my pulse pounding in my neck. This place was completely strange to me, and I had no idea how I had gotten there. Had I been kidnapped? Had I passed out and been taken to some bizarre vintage style recovery room?

My breathing shallow, I forced myself to slide off the bed. There was a door to the left, maybe…maybe I would find my parents waiting just on the other side, ready to explain everything to me. 

I took my first step, but that was as far as I got before the sound of booming voices assaulted my senses. 

“Ah, you’re here bright and early I see.”

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

“Oh no worries, dear. I’ll be here running this little sale all day.” 

I slapped my hands over my ears. Who was talking so damn loud? Were they on some kind of intercom speaker or something? Their voices felt like they were echoing all around me, it was surreal. 

“Well good luck, and thank you again for this.” 

“No problem at all, sweetie.” 

An instant later, I was struck with yet another unforeseen phenomenon. The very structure around me lurched into motion, sending me tumbling backwards onto the bed. I scrambled to grab a hold of one of the bed’s four wooden columns, though I quickly realized how little good that would do me.

As my eyes darted around the room, I witnessed as pieces of furniture literally bounced an inch or two off the ground before returning to the floor with a resounding thump. 

I had never been in an earthquake before, but something about this didn’t feel normal. They’d shown us footage in my freshman year geology class of earthquakes happening, and in every clip they showed, the shaking had appeared to be largely side-to-side. This was different, the motion felt distinctly bouncy—meaning holding onto the bed wouldn’t stop me from being thrown up into the air along with the piece of furniture. 

With that thought in mind, I released my grip on the column and launched myself off the bed; however, I was at a loss for what to do next. I knew the best course of action in an earthquake was to get outside, but I didn’t even know what building I was in, nor was I even sure what I was experiencing was an earthquake at all. 

When another tremor jolted through the floor and sent me stumbling forward, I made a snap decision and decided to shove myself into the doorframe with the door itself at my back. At least this way I could have some sort of support, and I didn’t have to worry about something hitting me from behind. 

The quaking went on for another couple minutes, and as I remained stuffed in between the doorframe, I noticed the light that was streaming through the window would change from one moment to the next. One second the daylight would be shining in clearly, and undisrupted, the next it would disappear altogether, casting the entire room into darkness. 

“What the hell is happening?” All of a sudden nothing seemed to make any sense! I was in a strange room, hearing disembodied voices, experiencing a bizarre earthquake, and now the sun itself appeared to be blinking in and out of existence!

As the incessant motion continued around me, I once again heard the sound of an incorporeal voice. “Hope I didn’t end up letting in a bunch of bugs.” The tone of the voice was so casual and unbothered, as though whoever it belonged to had no idea about what was happening. Was it some kind of recording or something?

An especially large tremor shook up the room. My palms were turning white from how hard I was pressing them against the wooden doorframe. A moment later I noticed the lighting shift once again. This time the color of the light seemed to change, almost taking on a whiter and more artificial shade. I had no idea what that meant. 

I heard a loud grunting noise come from what sounded like above me, followed by yet another strong jolt through the structure around me. But then it was over, the shaking anyways. Suddenly everything had fallen still. 

I remained frozen in place, afraid the quaking would pick back up any minute. It was then that I caught yet another unidentifiable sound. This time though it was repetitive thumps, not unlike footsteps. They started out loud, but quickly faded out into silence. 

Now that I thought about it, I had been hearing those same thumps during the earthquake, I’d just been too preoccupied to take notice at the time. 

“This had better be some really vivid dream,” I muttered to myself as I finally peeled myself away from the door. 

Cautiously, I stepped further into the room, towards the window specifically. Before I left the room and explored the building, I needed to figure out where the building actually was. 

I had made it to about the middle of the room when my ears once again picked up on the heavy thudding noise. This time it started off quiet and progressively got louder and louder.

“Now, let’s take a look.” The voice thundered around me as if it was filling every corner and crevice of the room. 

My breath got caught in my throat as once again the light coming from the window was abruptly blotted out. I stared at that rectangular piece of glass, goosebumps prickling up along my arm. There was movement out there.

And then there it was—a giant, blinking, hazel eye peering in at me.

For the first time since waking up in this terrifying situation, I screamed.

[prismartist]

life's no picnic ('til you make it one)

part 4.1 of to break bread, the series about soulbounds and food

Ao3

–––

“Aww! Look at you, being a lovely little malewife!”

“What did you just call me?”

“Nothing.”

Grian rolls his eyes and simply goes back to setting up the new brick oven, sat within in the walls of the Red Velvet Keep. On a crafting table are ingredients: butter and cheese—that must’ve taken a lot of effort—garlic, and… potatoes? 

He tilts his head. “What are you making?”

“Souffle. For the picnic.”

“Oooh, yummy! I can’t wait to taste it.”

Grian looks at Scar, exasperated. He throws a log into the smoking oven, then straightens, hands on hips. “Aren’t you going to help?”

“Oh! Of course, pardon me.” Scar wheels himself over to the crafting table. “Shall I take care of the potatoes?”

“Yes, please. I’ve already boiled them, so all you have to do is peel and mash them.” Grian hands over a small blade, resembling a shiv—he hadn’t bothered to properly polish it, sue him—and gives a pleading look. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Aw, c’mon Gri, you have too little faith in me.”

“Do I?”

Scar decides not to answer that, and Grian lets out a small laugh at his silence.

After Grian struggles to separate the egg yolks and whites, they split the potato-peeling among themselves, though at Scar’s insistence, Grian lets him do the mashing. With further begging and a—contrary to whatever Grian says—good, ethical use of puppy eyes, Grian relents to letting him whisk as well. As he does so, Grian adds in the egg yolks, minced garlic, cream, and cheese,

“Took all morning to make that,” Grian mutters. “I don’t remember dairy-making taking so long.”

“You should’ve done it yesterday.” 

“I should have, but unfortunately my expert procrastination skills got the better of me.”

He adds salt and pepper, and tells Scar to keep mixing until it’s smooth. Grian then gets another bowl and puts the egg whites in, whipping it with such a ferocity that Scar takes a bit of a break to watch. 

“Amazing how so much energy can be stored in such a tiny body,” he teases, and Grian shoots him a glare. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be mixing something?”

“Hey, I’m all done, right now I’m just enjoying the show.”

At that Grian rolls his eyes and quickly turns back to his work, though the tips of his ears redden. “Don’t distract me.”

Once the whites have transformed into a fluffy merengue, Grian gently pushes it into Scar’s bowl with the potatoes, and Scar folds it in. When it’s fully incorporated, it’s a nice pale yellow cream color. They pour it into a pre-buttered iron dish, and Grian pushes it into the brick oven. 

“Okay.” When he speaks again, it’s in a very hushed tone. “We have to be very quiet, or it’s going to deflate.”

Scar’s eyes widen. “Is that an actual thing?” he whispers back, though according to the expression on Grian’s face, it’s decidedly louder than desired. 

“Sh! I mean, to tell you the truth I’m not really sure, but I don’t want to risk it.”

"Ooh, okay, quiet game then."

Grian snorts. "Sure."

"You've already lost!" 

"Oh come on, Scar."

After a few moments of staring at the baking souffle, Scar looks at Grian, who's looking so intensely at the oven he almost seems to forget his own surroundings. Scar blinks,  because Grian doesn't, and frankly it's pretty terrifying. Scar wheels back a bit, and as he does, reaches out and tugs gently on Grian's sweater. Grian flinches and turns to him, blinking furiously as if to make up for his lack before. "What are you doing?"

"Pulling you back so you don't burn your eyes out! Really, G, I know you want it to be perfect for the picnic, but I'd expect you to take better care of yourself."

"I'm fine, Scar," Grian mutters, but upon a further insistent tug from Scar, simply sighs and follows him as he wheels away from the oven. 

“I thought you were going to shove your whole head in there,” Scar jokes, ignoring how far away Grian looks.

Grian hums. “I was considering it. The sooner we’re on Red, the sooner this is all over with.”

“What, and miss out on more picnics?”

“Picnics would be much nicer if we were all on Hermitcraft and not worrying about mortality.”

“Yeah, but you’ll have to wrestle BigB past the whitelist first.” Scar snickers. “Just smuggle him.”

Something in Grian softens at that, and it seems his attention finally refocuses on Scar. “Or we can just ask X to let him in for a bit.”

“True, true, but that’s not as fun!”

“You’ve got a point there.” Grian tilts his head as if contemplating something, gaze drifting to the ground. “I’m still surprised you’re okay with all this, to be honest.”

“Oh, I’m always up for a good picnic!”

“No it’s- it’s not about that, Scar. I’m surprised you… that you’re the one who suggested this in the first place. That you’re okay with… with BigB.”

Scar pauses, noting the way Grian draws up his shoulders ever so slightly. He lets out a languid sigh. “Well, admittedly, I was a little miffed at first, mostly because of your weird sneakiness and complete inability to communicate-”

Grian stammers at that. “L-Listen, okay, so I was a little nervous-”

“Don’t bother defending yourself, mister! Anyways, I was upset at being left out, but we had that lovely heart-to-heart, and now we’ve arranged this picnic, and we’ll all hang out and eat suffles and be besties!”

“Seriously, where did you learn all this slang.”

“The important thing is,” Scar pointedly continues, taking Grian’s hand into his own, “we’re going to have a lovely time. We get more allies, you’ll hang out with both your soulmates, no matter how unequal in superiority they are-” Grian groans and rolls his eyes at that, “-and we’ll just all be friends.”

Grian sighs, rubbing his thumb across Scar’s knuckles, and finally relaxes. Scar returns the gesture. Grian meets Scar’s eyes, offering a small smile. “Right. Thanks, for letting me do this.”

Scar beams. “What are soulmates for?” He sniffs the air, noticing the sweet aroma wafting through it. “Aside from eating each other’s souffles.”

“I should’ve made more, huh.”

“Probably.”

Later, they stand once more in front of the oven, Grian slipping on two wool mittens. He inhales deeply, Scar watching with bated breath. Slowly he reaches in, and slowly he pulls out the souffle.

It deflates with a sound not unlike a fart.

Grian lets out a wounded sound, and Scar can’t help but snicker. Grian gapes at him, anguished.

“I told you to be quiet!”

Scar’s eyes widen in offense. “Excuse me, I was as quiet as a mouse!”

“Not quiet enough, apparently. Look at it, it’s just- I thought I- why-” Grian straightens as he stammers at the deflated souffle in his hands. After several more unintelligible noises, he finally gives a resigned sigh, and walks over to the table. “Whatever, it’s fine, we have the souffle. We’ll let this cool down, and then we’ll be on our way.”

Scar grins and follows after him. “We’re off to the picnic!”

“Yes, Scar.” Grian turns back, and grins. “We’re off to the picnic.”

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s 2021 Birthday R&S

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an R&S which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ This was released on 24 July 2021 ]

[ Chapter One: Model Aircraft Competition ]

The cicadas outside the window are clamorous, and the dark green trees cover the blazing sun, casting shady and cooling patches.

This is an incredibly ordinary late afternoon. The summer vacation is about to arrive, and the classroom is filled with the buzzing chatter of students, as rowdy as usual.

Gavin is asleep on the seat next to the window. Sunlight passes through the crevices of leaves and linger on his shoulders, bright and indolent. However, he isn’t actually sleeping, and the conversation between his deskmate and the student in front of him drift to his ears clearly.

“Hey, are you going for that model aircraft competition the teacher mentioned a few days ago?”

“I heard all the middle schoolers in our city will be participating. Those who get prizes will have extra marks, and the person who gets first place can visit the Aviation Headquarters!”

“Then again, you’ll need the capabilities to win. If you're participating, I’ll watch.”

“Hehe, you speak as though the person who lags behind in every subject can bag a trophy.”

The two of them attack each other with taunting remarks. After lapsing into a moment of silence, they suddenly turn their gazes to Gavin simultaneously.

Gavin’s deskmate pokes his arm and calls out to him.

“Gavin, you aren’t asleep, are you?”

The figure wearing a blue and white school uniform remains plopped on the desk, unmoving. A slightly muffled response drifts from him.

“What is it?”

Gavin’s deskmate and the student sitting in front of him look at each other, then speak excitedly.

“Do you know about that recent model aircraft competition?”

Gavin lets out a “mm”.

“Aren’t you going to participate?”

“We had a discussion about it, and felt that in the entire class, you’re the only one with the capabilities to win a prize. The others are just a bunch of useless troops, and they’d be of no use even if they went.”

Gavin stirs slightly. His deskmate looks at him with anticipation. In the end, he simply cushions his head using the other arm.

“Not interested.”

“Huh?”

His deskmate stares at the back of his head in utter disbelief.

“Your dad’s a military officer, and you’ve seen more real planes since young as compared to the number of models we’ve played with. This competition is basically made for you.”

Gavin doesn’t respond. In the sunlight, a few strands of hair on the back of the youth’s head stick up disobediently, clearly showing that he isn’t in the best of moods.

At this moment, the dismissal bell rings. Along with the cheers from students, the classroom erupts into a state of chaos.

Gavin finally sits up. After stuffing the English book he used as a pillow into his sling bag, he turns around and leaves the classroom.

After the figure vanishes at the door, Gavin’s deskmate turns to the student sitting in front of him, expressing puzzlement.

“Why do you think Gavin doesn’t want to participate? A few days ago, I saw him at the bookstore outside school buying an Aeromodelling Atlas.”

The student in front of him shrugs, signalling that he has no idea.

“Maybe he got bored.”

[ Chapter Two - Proof ]

When Gavin reaches home, his mother has yet to return.

Placing his bag down, he suddenly notices a new post-it note on the fridge. On it, there’s a menu written in delicate handwriting: Stir-fried tomato and scrambled eggs, fried stuffed tofu, stir-fried duck with pineapples.

There’s a smiley face drawn on the last line, and the words “The dishes Little Gav loves to eat” are written at the side.

Only then does Gavin remember - his birthday is coming.

Every year, his mother would start preparations way in advance. It’s as if in her eyes, this particular day is even more worthy of celebration as compared to all other festivals.

And this year is no exception.

The post-it note is a little crooked. Gavin uses a fridge magnet to straighten it, then returns to his room.

The small room is covered with traces of youth. There are posters of basketball celebrities on the walls, and there's a globe and a few books on the desk.

After hesitating for a while, Gavin pulls open his bag and takes out a pamphlet. On it, there’s information pertaining to the model aircraft competition.

He reads the information seriously. A breeze blows the the white curtains, and the lights and shadows of dusk outline the youth’s straightened back profile, casting specks of light on a book. The words “Aeromodelling Atlas” can be vaguely seen. 

While reading, he suddenly recalls the words his deskmate said-

“Your dad’s a military officer, and you’ve seen more real planes since young as compared to the number of models we’ve played with. This competition is basically made for you.”

His grip on the pamphlet abruptly tightens. Gavin rolls it into a ball and tosses it on the table, getting up in frustration and leaving the room.

Everything in the living room is clean and tidy. The school uniform he had changed out of is drying in the balcony. The large uniform drifts with the wind, and the air is filled with the fragrance of soap.

Even though there are clear traces of diligence and attentiveness, certain things can still be seen.

Model robots and clay crafts are displayed neatly on the left side of the built-in cupboard. However, there’s nothing on the right side.

All the cups and plates form a complete set. However, one cup is placed upside down on the cup rack. Although it has been a long time since it was last used, its owner wipes it spotlessly every day.

It’s as if the person she’s waiting for has always been around. Disappointment has repeated itself in endless cycles, but she continually harbours hope.

Gavin ignores such traces. He walks over to the fan in the living room, furrowing his brows as he squats down.

This fan has been spoilt for several days. Each time it’s turned on, it releases a strange clacking sound, akin to a heavy wooden door being pushed open with great effort.

-

When Wardia steps in with a bag of groceries, she sees Gavin half-squatting and studying that fan which has been broken for numerous days.

She calls out to Gavin.

“Little Gav, the fan is spoilt. I’ll ask a worker to fix it tomorrow. Don’t mind it.”

“When you called yesterday, the worker said that he wouldn’t be free these days. He probably won’t be able to drop by tomorrow either.”

Gavin pushes the outer shell of the fan lightly, and the white netted cover stirs gently, letting out a muffled buzz.

“No need to call for a worker. I can fix it.”

Wardia is stunned for a moment. Then, her eyes crinkle into a smile.

“When did our Little Gav become so incredible?”

Gavin stands up, his tone very certain.

“Leave it to me.”

Wardia casts a contemplative glance at Gavin. He’s going to be 14 soon. At this age, children tend to think about a lot of things, and may be exceptionally sensitive in certain areas.

Since a particular point in time, he had already been working hard and learning how to become a man with an indomitable spirit.

She can only nod.

“Okay. Mommy bought green beans today. I’ll prepare you a cooling soup later to alleviate the summer heat.”

With this, Gavin responds by heading to the kitchen to get a bowl to soak the beans for his mother.

The green coloured beans are immersed in water. Some float and some sink, and their colours are clear.

Wardia looks at Gavin. After a moment of hesitance, she speaks in a light-hearted and leisurely tone.

“Little Gav... Daddy took up an urgent mission recently and was sent to a very faraway place. He might not be around for your birthday this year again...”

“Mm, I’ve got it.”

Gavin’s tone is very indifferent. It’s as though whether that person returns or not has nothing to do with him at all. Wardia wants to say something, but after opening her mouth, she turns around, forcefully suppressing her emotions. 

Gavin carries the bowl with both hands. When he sees his mother’s back, he suddenly grows quiet.

Why harbour hope when one clearly knows the ending?

After dinner, Gavin returns to his room. The pamphlet is still on the desk. He pauses for a moment, then reaches out to pick it up.

He’s going to be 14 years old soon.

Becoming one year older is something his mother looks forward to even more than he does. Because of this, she feels even guiltier with every year of his father’s absence.

Even though he knows he doesn’t need that person to wish him a happy birthday, he hopes that his mother can be a little more genuinely happy on his birthday.

Gavin makes a decision.

He smoothens the pamphlet on the desk. In a serious manner, he fills up the registration form on the back with his name. When he sets down the pen, his eyes sparkle with a certain determination.

He wants to participate in the model aircraft competition, and he wants to get first place.

He wants to use something he likes to prove to that person that he has already grown up, and has become even more incredible than he imagined.

“I’m going to prove to you that I can still do it without Evol.” He repeats resolutely once more.

If that person left this house back then because of how small and weak Gavin was, he’d definitely have a slightly different answer when he sees the current Gavin.

He’d definitely want to... return and see this family.

[ Chapter Three - Wings Waiting To Fly ]

Aeromodelling books and scattered materials are piled up in Gavin’s room. When Wardia enters while carrying chilled green bean lily bulb soup, she sees Gavin sitting cross-legged on the floor, using a vernier calliper to measure the wingspan.

Wardia carefully steps across the spare parts, placing the bowl on the desk.

“Little Gav, why are you so diligent in this competition? You’ve been fiddling around in your room for several days.”

Gavin wipes sweat off his forehead.

“This is a really large-scale competition. The teacher says that the person in first place will get to visit the Aviation Headquarters. I want to have a look.”

He’s determined not to tell his mother the true reason.

Wardia nods, giving him a “work hard” gesture.

“In that case, Little Gav must continue working hard and strive to be a guest at the aviation base.”

Wardia pauses, then looks at Gavin seriously.

“But Little Gav, even though this is a very rare opportunity, you must remember that no matter what happens at the end, Mommy will be happy for you. Because I know that you’re doing something you like, that you’ve worked hard, and have obtained happiness in the process. And that’s enough.”

Gavin nods.

“I know.”

“Oh yes, Mommy also wants to use this chance to discuss your birthday plans with you.”

Wardia grins while posing a question.

“What does Little Gav want as a birthday present this year? And what kind of pattern do you want your birthday cake to have?”

“Do you want to invite your classmates over to celebrate with you?”

Wardia prattles on endlessly as she counts the plans she has for his birthday on her fingers. That pair of beautiful eyes are layered with gentleness, but also hide a twinge of guilt.

It’s as though she’s exerting her all to ensure that other aspects are done even better to make up for that guilt.

After Gavin ponders for a while, he shakes his head.

“I’ve already grown up, so there isn’t anything I specially want as a birthday gift.”

“I just want Mommy to always be happy.”

When Wardia hears Gavin’s words, she’s taken aback for half a second. Her eyes stir slightly.

After this, she walks over to hug Gavin gently. Gavin has no idea why his mother is suddenly doing this, but he puts down the blueprint of the aircraft wing, reaching out to return his mother’s hug.

Wardia speaks softly yet resolutely.

“Little Gav, even if you become an adult in the future and become a man with an indomitable spirit, your birthday is still an important thing.”

She pauses.

“Because this day doesn’t just belong to you. It also belongs to everyone who loves you, and the people who have prepared and looked forward to this day for a very long time.

After his mother leaves the room, Gavin looks at the blueprint of the plane which is just beginning to take shape. He repeats what his mother said softly.

“It also belongs to everyone who loves you, and the people who have prepared and looked forward to this day for a very long time...”

Those clear eyes seem to be filled with an even greater determination to win the prize. He picks up the vernier calliper and continues measuring the wingspan.

[ Chapter Four: Heading In Another Direction ]

There’s only one week till Gavin’s birthday.

That huge pile of materials in Gavin’s room has turned into a beautiful white plane with blue wings and smooth lines.

At the competition venue, that white aircraft model ascends, spins around, flies upside down, and lands under Gavin’s control. Everyone is astonished at how perfect it is.

Without any reservations, Gavin wins first place.

The person handing out prizes is a certain officer from an aviation base. He places a small plane-shaped badge into Gavin’s hand.

“You referenced the air freighter Y2251 for the style, didn’t you? I could tell from a glance.”

Gavin nods, and the officer pats him on the shoulder.

“You reconstructed it very close to the original. Being this outstanding at such a young age, I believe your father will definitely be proud of you when he knows about this.”

Gavin lifts his head sharply, staring at the officer.

“Do you know him?”

The officer who handed him the award chuckles.

“I met him at an international meeting in the past. He’s a very outstanding soldier.”

Gavin doesn’t speak further. He lowers his eyes, tightly gripping that badge which symbolises the sky.

-

At night, Gavin sits at the edge of the window, lifting the small aviator badge to his eyes, staring at it meticulously under the moonlight.

The badge isn’t large, but the wings on it have been engraved vividly. It’s as though in the very next second, it could break free from the heavy fetters of metal, flying freely towards the horizon.

Gavin looks at it for a very long time, then reluctantly shifts his gaze away from the badge.

The summer evening breeze passes by his lapel, bringing with it a cooling and refreshing scent. The trees in the courtyard are very tall, and the sprigs of blossoming plants stretch to the edges of the window, touching his ankle.

This is the first time he has attained honour based on his own strength. Does this mean he now possesses the strength to be acknowledged by others?

He looks at the badge. Finally, his eyes crinkle into a slight smile, unintentionally revealing the wilfulness and pride that a youth should have.

Using his hands to support himself on the edge of the window, Gavin turns around and leaps back into his room. He locates a plain white envelope from his drawer, then picks up a pen. On the address line, he fills in his father’s current location, then stuffs the badge into the envelope solemnly.

After hesitating for a while, he scrunches up the envelope slightly. A few creases immediately appear on it.

Only after he leaps over the wall and heads out to slip that envelope into a mailbox at the corner of the street does Gavin release a soft sigh of relief.

This is a proof of pride, and it’s also an invitation from a youth. 

An invitation for the person whom his mother cares about to return to this place, and spend a birthday together which could constitute a “reunion”.

Gavin stands in front of the mailbox, lifting his head to look at the star-studded sky.

Tonight, the Milky Way seems to be brighter than in previous nights. Sagittarius emits a resplendent light, and the bow formed by stars points towards an unknown, faraway place.

[ Chapter Five: Indentations of Growth ]

On the early morning of Gavin’s birthday, Wardia cooks him a bowl of longevity noodles, and there’s even a soft-boiled egg burrowed underneath the noodles.

“Happy birthday, Little Gav.”

“From today onwards, you’ve grown one year older.”

His mother smiles as she says her well wishes to Gavin. After he’s done eating the noodles, she holds out a measuring tape.

“Shall we measure how much taller our Little Gav has grown this year?”

“...okay.”

Gavin is slightly resigned but accustomed to it as he stands next to the pole in the corridor. 

Right now, he has already grown much taller. In a serious manner, Wardia uses a pencil to draw a mark near the roof of his head.

“Our Little Gav has grown much taller. Wow, one, two, three... four centimetres.”

His mother keeps the measuring tape and Gavin steps away from the pole. There are numerous deep and light indents on the white body of the pole - traces that witness one boy’s growth each year.

"Looks like I won’t need to measure you next year. Little Gav has already grown taller than Mommy.”

Gavin immediately cuts in, his tone extremely certain.

“I’ll protect Mommy.”

Wardia taps Gavin’s forehead lightly.

“Mommy doesn’t need to be protected by Little Gav. Mommy will protect Little Gav. I’ll celebrate your birthday with you every year until you grow up.”

“What will happen after I grow up?”

His mother grins as she turns around and enters the kitchen. Her gentle voice drifts to Gavin’s ears, and sounds a little hazy.

“After you grow up, you’ll meet someone like Mommy who is willing to celebrate a lifetime of birthdays with you.”

While his mother starts busying herself to prepare Gavin’s birthday feast, Gavin decides to fix the fan in the living room.

With the successful experience of aeromodelling, Gavin picks up the instruction manual and fixes that clanking fan very quickly.

The fixed fan starts rotating to and fro in a leisurely manner, releasing a cooling wind. Gavin closes his eyes to feel the breeze, and his hair is blown up, fluttering messily.

“It’s fixed.” Gavin opens his eyes, turning his head to look at the time.

Noon passed not too long ago, and it’s still very early.

Gavin thinks for a moment, then heads into his room to retrieve the model aircraft. He sits on the steps of the courtyard.

A chunk of paint on the model aircraft cracked a few days ago. Gavin holds a small brush, slowly giving a fresh coat of paint to the tailplane.

The cicadas on the trees are noisy as always, and the brilliant sunlight filters through the leaves, falling on Gavin’s face.

While using the small brush to mend the plane with layers of paint, Gavin occasionally lifts his head towards the nearby door.

Judging by the time, he should still reach today, no matter how late it is.

Birds soar in the sky, and the sun continuously shifts to the west, until it brings twilight with it, turning into a semicircle about to be swallowed up by the horizon.

Gavin sits on the steps for a very long time, from noon till late afternoon, and until the beautiful lines on the model aircraft have been mended, laying beside him quietly.

Yet, that door doesn’t get pushed open.

A few leaves are blown by the wind, and they fall on the wings of the model aircraft. Gavin reaches out to pick the leaves up.

He grips the leaves in his palm, lowering his eyes and thinking about something unknown to anyone else.

With a sudden creak, the sound of a door opening drifts from afar, and footsteps land on Gavin’s ears.

Gavin instantly straightens up, but he quickly faces away.

The tender dusk envelops him, illuminating the slightly upturned corners of his lips.

[ Chapter Six: A Heart of Well Wishes ]

The people who pushed the door open are his maternal grandfather and grandmother.

Carrying a birthday cake, they brim with smiles as they walk towards Gavin.

His grandfather grabs Gavin into a hug.

“We wish our Little Gav a happy birthday.”

His grandmother lifts the cake, waving it at Gavin.

“Grandpa and Grandma specially bought a cake to see you, and to celebrate our Little Gav’s birthday.”

“Thanks, Grandpa and Grandma.”

Gavin receives the cake from his grandmother and heads towards the living room with them. Before walking up the steps, Gavin casts another glance at the door.

The door remains quietly caged in twilight, waiting alongside Gavin.

But even until the evening grows dark, it is never pushed open again.

Wardia notices Gavin’s abnormal silence. When she follows his gaze and looks at the door outside, she realises something.

However, Wardia doesn’t say anything. She simply pauses, then is full of smiles as she opens the cake box.

“Here’s wishing our birthday boy a happy 14th birthday!” His grandparents grin while singing the birthday song.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you...”

After singing the birthday song, his mother looks at Gavin, speaking gently.

“Go on and make a wish, Little Gav.”

Gavin stares at the cake and remains silent for a while. Then, he speaks quietly in his heart.

It’s fine if that person doesn't return. It’s fine if he isn’t acknowledged. Anyway, he has celebrated his birthday today, and has grown one year older.

He can fix a fan for his mother, and can use his strength to protect this home.

So-

It’s fine.

-

After dinner, the family sits in the courtyard to enjoy the cool air.

Hearing from his mother that Gavin won the first place in the aeromodelling competition, his grandparents are extremely surprised.

“Little Gav is truly incredible. Isn’t it really difficult to build models? What reward would you like? Grandpa and Grandma will give it to you.”

“There isn’t anything I want as a reward.”

However, his grandfather is very stubborn.

“You’re still so young. How can there be nothing that you want? Just suggest something, and treat it as a gift from your Grandpa and Grandma.”

At this appropriate time, Wardia cuts in. “This is a well wish from your elders, so just accept it.”

Gavin lowers his eyes and thinks for a moment. Then, he lifts his head and responds softly.

“In that case, I want our family to be like this every year in the future.”

He pauses, his eyes carrying within them slight warmth and ease.

“We’ll eat cake together, talk together, and sing the birthday song together.”

"That’s such an easy feat. Every year in the future, Grandpa and Grandma will bring a cake and celebrate Little Gav’s birthday with your Mommy.”

“It’s a deal.”

The evening breeze blows past gently, blowing up stray hairs in front of Gavin’s forehead, revealing a pair of clear amber eyes. He turns back to the courtyard and watches as his grandparents and mother engage in small talk and laughing to their heart’s content.

This is a complete family which has been mended with love, and it has much warmth and many things to look forward to.

It encases the youth’s heart, enabling him to not feel lonely at this moment.

The Milky Way is as magnificent as always. Beneath the brilliant star-studded sky, the tree which has been growing in the courtyard for a very long time stands quietly, as though it would remain this way every year.

Cheri’s Reflections:

Imagine if the letter wasn’t sent because Gavin forgot to put stamps LOL T^T

Not-so-fun fact: Wardia died when Gavin was 15, so this is the last birthday they spent together...

And MC not reading his letter back in Loveland High and leaving him waiting for hours hurts even more now because it probably reminded him of how he waited for his father to no avail

✈️ Spreading Wings Date: here

✈️ Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

[adonis-koo]

ghostin him

Summary: Life is nothing more than dull colors for you, your world shattered and laying in the shards of what once was rather than focusing on what is. That is until you meet Kim Namjoon, who is immediately taken by you without realizing you’re a girl with a whole lot of baggage, through tears and many sleepless nights you’re faced with a choice of hanging on with bleeding hands, or accepting what is, and letting go.

‘What did you do?’

‘I ruined everything. I kissed her and she looked at me like I was a ghost.’

Pairing: Namjoon/Reader, Taehyung/reader

Word Count: 26k

Genre: hurt and comfort, angst with a happy ending, whew this one is gonna hurt y’all, bakery!AU, one sided pining, unrequited feelings, some more angst, Jungkook just really loves his Noona, Namjoon is a mess, but so is MC,

Warning: this fic deals with major character death, mourning and suicidal thoughts, please read with caution!

Note: whew, I’m not gonna lie guys this is a pretty heavy fic! I poured a lot of sad feelings into this as just a way to vent out my sadness! I’d also like to mention I am fine lmao! I often get bouts of sadness and all of it went into this so I hope you enjoy! Last but not least a big big big thank you to @tiny-onecx​​ for beta reading this when it was a giant mess and helping me turn it into the bittersweet story it is today! <3

“Baby, come on, wake up,” His deep, dulcet voice quietly called out, a whine escaping you as you flopped onto your stomach, your face buried. Large hands grabbing your waist as his fingertips dragged against the open skin, “C’mon, you missed your alarm clock.” You felt his nose rub against your neck, hair tickling your skin and his body was so warm. 

Rolling over you groaned as you glanced at the man who laid beside you, Taehyung’s smile lit up like the sun as he let his fingers gently brush over the skin of your face, “Morning.” 

Adoration filled your whole chest, butterflies swarming in your stomach with giddy happiness you couldn’t ever adequately describe as a shy smile tugged on your lips, “Morning.” His fingers dragging down to your lips, thumbing the soft subtle lower lip. His forehead pressing against yours as he smiled once more, “Come on baby, let’s get up.” 

“Get up.” 

“Y/n, you’re gonna be late for work, what the hell!?” 

Your eyes cracked open as you groaned, your roommate Jimin was already dressed and had probably already eaten breakfast as he sighed, frowning at your somewhat confused figure as your head snapped to the other side of the bed. It was like a sucker punch in the gut, seeing the other side of the bed empty. Tears already threatened to spill, the butterflies in your stomach were gone, his deep voice along with it as you realized Taehyung, the man you had woken up with was just a cruel dream, “I’ll be up in a minute.” You muttered, covering your face with your pillow as you choked back a crack in your voice. 

You could feel Jimin’s presence stay in the room at the sound of your muffled sob, refusing to show your face from your pillow as you curled up away from him. You didn’t want to talk about it, he knew it, but it still hurt to watch you. Even after a year it was like time had stopped, would it ever heal? Your door quietly shut after a minute as you pressed your face into your pillow to quiet your sobs, hugging it close and praying maybe if you tried hard enough you’d fall back asleep where you’d be with Taehyung again. 

It didn’t matter how much sleep you got, your body was permanently lethargic and tired, getting out of bed every day was always a difficult task. Tears stained your face as you grabbed your phone, sniffling as you muttered, “Shit.” You dropped your phone into your lap as you pressed your hands to your face. You were late. Again. Your boss had been understanding the first six months, but now? Not so much. 

You got up, hurriedly wiping your face as you sniffled once more, fumbling with your clothes as you changed. Tying up your hair as you grabbed your phone before hurrying out the door, Jimin long gone for work so at the very least he wasn’t going to nag you for being late. It didn’t matter what you did, you tried everything, a new hobby, crafts, drawing, baking, nothing worked. Nothing filled the void in you. You could find Taehyung in everything you did, always. 

Straightening yourself out you opened the door to the cafe you worked in. The only thing that made you feel better was working, filling your life with nothing but endless busy work to keep your thoughts off of him. It worked until you got off shift and rinse repeat. That was all your life had become now. 

It used to be filled with vivid hues and rose colored glasses with Taehyung, he found beauty in everything and he showered you in all of it, he taught you optimism and love in a way you never thought you could feel it. You had gotten so used to his presence you didn’t even realize how much you radiate happiness when he was with you. Now your life is a bleak endless void; work, cry, sleep. 

It’s all the energy you had to do anymore, what was the point in doing anything else? You’d never get to experience life in the beautiful eyes of Taehyung again. You sucked a sharp breath of air in as a voice called out, “Hey! There you are Noona.” Like a blessing from above your coworker called out with a big bunny-like smile. 

“Thank’s Jungkook.” He hadn’t even said anything but you couldn’t help but give a weak smile in compensation for him not ratting you out to your boss who luckily wasn’t in today. He knew what happened, but he rarely ever brings it up, perhaps sensing you were still grieving and would prefer to keep your mind off it. 

But you knew you couldn’t fool anyone, your smile always seemed sadder these days, Jungkook more than anyone could sense it. Rounding the counter you set your bag down as he asked softly, “Are you good?” That was all he ever asked, an open invitation that if you ever wanted to talk about it he’d be more than happy to listen. Many people in your life were like this, bless all of them. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You mumbled, refusing to look at him as you dug through your things, pretending as if you were looking for something when you genuinely couldn’t look at him, few words could cause you to burst into a faucet of tears and you refused to cry at work. 

If you turned around to look up at Jungkook’s stupid, soft, doe like eyes that were always so understanding you’d surely start crying. You didn’t have to look at your coworker to know he was frowning but said no more, just like always. 

You didn’t mean to push all of your friends away, but you simply needed time alone, by yourself to get through this. If ever. Some days you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever get over it, if you’d ever love someone the way you loved Taehyung again. Pulling the apron on you pushed all of your sad thoughts to the back of your head and got to work. 

Work was your happy place, as happy as it could be at least. You could pretend, just for a little while. That everything was okay, “Hey, where did the flour go?” Yoongi came out of the back complaining as he glared at Jungkook, “You closed last night.” His eyes narrowed into daggers at the younger boy who impishly smiled in response, 

“Hyung it’s where it always is, didn’t you check the top shelf? It should be there.” Jungkook insisted as he followed Yoongi to the back who was grumbling, said-baker not liking his ingredients misplaced. You felt a small smile tug on your lips as you watched them bicker as the door to the back shut. 

Turning away you walked up to the register where a customer had been scanning over the menu before ordering. Fixing coffee, getting a croissant, it was quaint work but something about it made you feel happy. Reminded you of simpler times. 

The bell against the door rang as you popped up from your crouched position, setting the plate and coffee on the counter as you called out the customer's name before going back up to the register, carefully watching the man whose eyes met with yours suddenly smack right into a table. 

You winced a little as he grunted in pain, rubbing his thigh that hit the hard edge of the table, his face looking oddly red as he rubbed his neck, unable to hold your stare for a even a short period of time as he awkwardly coughed, frantically looking over the menu, “Uh, you can take your time sir.” You raised an eyebrow as you glanced away, why was he making this feel so awkward? 

“O-okay, thank you.” He offered a sincere yet somewhat odd smile, your eyes immediately flickering to the pretty dimples that poked into his cheeks before he quickly looked back up at the menu as you turned around to wipe down the counters that had gotten crumbs all over it. Presumably from Jungkook eating yesterday's leftover pastries that didn’t sell. 

Casually you glanced at the stranger, sure you had a few new people every day but generally the cafe only had regulars come in or people that stopped in a few times a week. It was a trendy little place and was close to the city’s college campus making it a hot spot for friends to study at. 

“You don’t look like you’ve been here before.” You commented causing him to jump, his eyes flicking to your figure before immediately back to the menu. 

“I uh- Probably because I haven’t,” He gave an awkward smile as he closed his eyes, without even fully realizing it you felt your lips tug into a tiny smile as he began to relax a little at your observation, “My friend constantly talks about how amazing the pastries here are so I figured I’d come by and try them, just the smell is making my mouth water.” 

Letting your arms rest against the counter you hummed, “You should try the coco cream cupcakes if you like chocolate oh! Or the sugar glazed puff pastries if you want something light and low on the sweetness.” Sugar glazed pastries were your favorite, Yoongi would always let you take leftovers home if they didn’t all sell that day. You always loved sharing them with-

“Alright! I’ll have two of the sugar glazed pastries then! Oh, can I get an americano to go with it?” He asked, seemingly confident in your choice of sweets or maybe just a little overwhelmed at how much was crammed onto the small menu. 

To be fair Yoongi was always whipping out new recipes and they always tasted delicious, he eventually had to keep some limited edition due to the limited space on the menu and sometimes he’d put up seasonal sweets as well. Your favorite was never pumpkin spice but nutmeg and cider cinnamon rolls, it tasted like october. October would be coming around again soon, it was hard to believe it would be a year soon…

“Of course.” You coughed out, hands fumbling somewhat as you tried to keep your mind from sinking into a place where it would not return if you let it, “Name?” 

“U-uh what?” He asked, looking somewhat sheepish and caught off guard as you glanced up from the register, tilting your head at the sight of his flushed face and eyes that kept jumping between you and the menu over ahead as if to appear like he wasn’t staring at you.

“For the order…” You replied somewhat hesitantly, a frown on your face as he suddenly laughed, looking mildly relieved as he rubbed the back of his neck. Still refusing to meet your gaze as if he seemed a little embarrassed.

“O-oh right. Namjoon.” He offered a weak smile as you wrote it down on his cup. Ringing him up you gave him his receipt before working on his americano. Jungkook just then opened the door to the back, the front of his black shirt completely covered in flour and his face looked as if he just sucked on a lemon. 

“...Do I wanna ask?” You frowned though you felt your lips threatening to tug into a smile at his exasperated expression, turning to face the register as he mumbled something about accidentally putting the flour in the pantry. Setting the sugar glazed pastry neatly on a plate before placing the plate and drink on the counter calling Namjoon’s name who appeared to be typing very passionately on his phone before glancing up. 

“Thank you- ah…” He paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to your shirt before he smiled brightly at you, “Y/n.” Your name tag was a little crooked today, making it stick out from your clothes in an annoying way but you couldn’t be bothered to adjust it. 

You gave a small nod as you turned around, glancing at Jungkook who seemed to watch both you and the man- Namjoon like a hawk as you asked, “What?” 

“Nothing.” He shrugged but it definitely did not look like nothing, before you could interrogate the younger boy he was already taking a customer's order. Sighing, you shook your head before you began working on the next order. 

The day went by quickly as always, the only thing that stuck out was when Namjoon left, waving at you before accidentally smacking against a chair that had been left unpushed by a table, causing him to stumble. You weren’t sure why but something just seemed….

“He likes you.” 

Your head whipped back over to Jungkook who was finished the last of cleaning before taking off as if his shift ended an hour earlier than yours. You couldn’t help but scoff as you rolled your eyes. 

“I’m being serious Noona!” Jungkook frowned, waving his hand to the door where Namjoon had long since left, “He kept smiling like an idiot while glancing over at you working.” You crossed your arms as you tilted your head.

“You were watching him eat?” You raised a brow, Jungkook’s face flushing somewhat as he glanced away, mumbling a no despite knowing for a fact he definitely was, “He’s just a customer Jungkook.” You dismissed him making a cute pout tug on his lips. You...you couldn’t even think about someone liking you. 

It wasn’t possible. Not right now at least. Jungkook sighed, his lips still tugged into a pout and those dumb doe eyes of his always getting the better of you as you scowled looking away, he was so stubborn when he wanted to be, “You might not be ready to move on Noona but that doesn’t mean other people can see that.” 

Your jaw clenched and your eyes glared against the counter, refusing to look at him as he sighed, “Bye Noona, see you friday.” You mumbled a goodbye as you sighed, closing your eyes as you rubbed your forehead. Just keep breathing. 

“Awh don’t cry baby,” Your cheeks squished and lips peppered against your face as you sniffled, trying your best not to cry at the sad scene in the movie but failing as a small whimper escaped your lips, “You’re so cute.” 

You shoved him causing laughter to erupt from his lips as you scowled while sniffling, “Tae shut up!” He gave you a playful nip on the neck as he hauled you into his lap, pressing little kisses against your head as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll always be here to wipe those tears away.” He thumbed a tear against your cheek before his hands suddenly grabbed at your waist, a squeal leaving your lips as he ruthlessly tickled you, giggles escaping you as he pushed you down against the bed, “There’s that pretty smile.” He cooed, that playful boxy grin of his on his face as you squirmed beneath him, tears pricking in your eyes at how hard you were laughing. 

Now your eyes were blurring out of sadness, funny how you took those moments for granted when you still had him. Your fingers traced the image of his face on your phone, it was a dumb selfie you had took one morning together when you were half asleep. 

What you’d give to be with him again, have him beside you in bed telling you to get off your phone while whining to hold you. You could almost picture him beside you, his hair in a multitude of colors but your favorite was always that stupid blueberry dye he had insisted was indigo. 

His hands would be cupping your face, your hand gently grabbing your cheek as you closed your eyes. He’d always thumb your bottom lip before letting his pads delicately trace up your cheekbone. Opening your eyes the bed was still empty, the hand on your face was not his, but your own. 

Tears began to pool in your eyes as you rolled onto your back, closing your eyes as you felt a wet tear roll down. Sniffling as you sat up, you couldn’t be here alone tonight. Not surrounded by everything, wearing his old hoodie he’d always give you when you were cold, surrounded by memories of what could have been. What was supposed to be. 

Fumbling you stood up, ignoring all the pictures framed of your smiling figure hugging the love of your life. Covering your mouth to keep yourself from sobbing, Jimin would have to be up early tomorrow and you didn’t want him to feel obligated to deal with you. Putting on your shoes you sniffled as you wiped your cheeks. 

How late was it? Two in the morning? Maybe even three, you could never truly sleep anymore, not when you weren’t in his arms, not when every moment you breathed the ache filled you. Your feet took you to the only place opened this late; the convenient store. During nights when you didn’t have to work the next day Taehyung loved taking you here when you had a stressful day. 

Always rambling about how nothing could cheer you up like a nice hot bowl of ramen. You couldn’t help but smile at the irony as the tears dripped down your cheeks. Wiping them as you entered the store. The cashier looked bored, headphones in and reading a magazine not even acknowledging your presence as you walked to where the ramen was held. 

What you didn’t expect to do was ram into what felt like a brick, “Ah!” You stumbled as the man quickly grabbed you by the arms to keep you steady, taking a moment to steady yourself you glanced up only to feel your lips part, “Namjoon?” 

“Y/n?” Namjoon hurriedly let you go, looking at you in somewhat disbelief as you flusteredly rubbed your eyes, realizing they were still wet with tears, “Are...are you okay?” He asked somewhat hesitantly as you turned away from him, tears flooding your eyes as your shoulders bobbed. 

“Y-yeah.” You sniffled, trying to keep your breathing under control, “I’m okay.” You forced it out as you covered your mouth. Rubbing your eyes once more as you hesitantly took a peep at him, his expression said it all. Truthfully, anyone who had seen you like this always gave you that same expression. Pity. His brows pressed together and lips parted but frowning slightly, “I’m fine!” You forced a smile as another tear trickled down your face, turning away from him again you let out a soft sob as you closed your eyes. 

“...Maybe we should get some ramen and sit down?” Namjoon offered while rubbing his neck, “I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?”

....

Glancing down at your cup of steaming warm ramen you sniffled, refusing to look up at the somewhat skittish man who seemed genuinely worried for you. 

‘Come on baby, eat up, it’ll make you feel better’

Tears already blurred your eyes again as you closed them, letting out a soft sob, lips trembling as you chopsticks shook, slurping on your noodles as you suppressed your cries. The warm broth making you realize how hungry you were as you swallowed. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon offered, his expression sad, unsure of how to help you or even if he could, but it seemed he wasn’t leaving anytime soon as he began eating his own noodles. 

You stayed silent as tears dripped down your face, clenching your cup with a death grasp as you forced the noodles into your mouth, closing your eyes as you savored them. Unable to even speak as you shook your head. You couldn’t talk about it...it was too soon. Even coming up on a year and it was still too soon. 

You felt pathetic living like this, you were crying in front of a stranger while eating cup noodles at a gas station at three in the morning. Where would you be if Taehyung was still here? At home, asleep in his arms. Closing your eyes you let the tears slide down your face as you surrendered to the hurt you had been drowning in the moment your life was turned upside down.

For the first time, you were grateful to have company, even if you didn’t speak a word to Namjoon he made one sided conversation, rambling about how he had stayed up too late studying for an exam and how he was hungry but didn’t have anything at his dorm. 

“I’ve been trying to keep my Bonsai tree alive but...gardening is kind of hard to learn,” Namjoon continued rambling on, confessing as he looked a little embarrassed, awkwardly leaning his seat as he mustered a weak smile while looking down at his cup. 

His voice was...soothing to listen to admittedly. Namjoon was oddly poetic in the most unexpected way, he told you he loved philosophy and going to the art museum in his free time. He seemed to be able to find anything to talk about even if you weren’t receptive, but oddly enough he didn’t seem bothered by it. 

You were curled up, your knees against your chest and hood burying your face as you listened to him intently, your eyes undoubtedly bloodshot but you had stopped crying a good ten minutes ago, sniffling as he sighed, “But from what I’ve read basically if it doesn’t vibe with the dirt it just dies.” 

The snort that escape you made his eyes shoot up to look at you, a giggle breaking out on your lips as you stared at your noodles which had become lukewarm, sniffling a little as a tiny smile tugged on your lips, shaking your head as you mumbled, “That’s not exactly how gardening works. You wanna make sure the soil is good quality and damp, dry soil kills plants fast when they transfer pots, you also need to make sure the roots aren’t overgrown when you transfer it to a bigger pot.” 

“Oh? I didn’t take you for a plant expert.” Namjoon quipped playfully, that pretty dimpled smile on his lips, obviously happy to get a not just a smile but also a laugh from you. 

You glanced at him for a moment, your lips quirking a little as you raised a brow, shaking your head as you smiled back at your cup again, “I consider myself a bit of dirt viber.” You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you as Namjoon joined in. After a moment you paused as you exhaled softly, your smile eventually melting off your face as you meekly glanced at your cup. 

“I should get home...work in the morning.” You mumbled as you glanced at your phone, it was already 3:30 in the morning and you needed to be up by seven...the latest if you didn’t want to be late again. 

Namjoon nodded understandingly, giving you one last smile when you left. Once again alone, yet for the first time in what felt like a long time, your mind lingered on those pretty dimples. 

“You look tired Noona.” You glared at Jungkook who was sucking on a lollipop, giving you a bratty smile as he tried to ruffle your hair only to earn a slap in return, a pout forming on his lip, “Did you think about what I asked?” 

Bless the little brats heart, Jungkook was genuinely trying to get you out there again but you had become a shell. You didn’t want to go to parties, you didn’t want to go to the park, you didn’t even want to get groceries anymore. You just wanted to lay in bed for a very long time. 

“I’m not interested in going out Jungkook.” You glanced at him tiredly, truthfully you had a good excuse, you were running on three hours of sleep and caffeine could only carry you so far for eight hours, rubbing your eyes you sighed as he whined with a groan. 

“You always say that!” Jungkook pouted, much to your surprise Yoongi had shown himself out from his cave as he pushed the door open, a fresh platter of sugar glazed pastries on rack as Jungkook huffed, “Just this once, please?” 

“Jungkook,” Yoongi warned as he glanced at the younger boy, taking a glance at you as he frowned, setting down the platter he picked up a pastry as he handed it to you. 

Glancing down at the fresh baked soft flaky treat you sighed, “Is this what’s my life come too?” Both boys glanced at you as you stared at the pastry, “Pity pastries and being dragged to parties?” 

You shoved the sweet treat into your mouth as you chomped down on the soft doughy material, the sweet crisp sugar glaze was crunchy against the soft warm dough of the pastry. “Well hey, if you don’t appreciate my pastries...” Yoongi tried to snatch the half eaten treat from you but you hurriedly shoved it into your mouth as you glared him down. 

The door suddenly jingled, catching all of your attention only to see the bright smile of only the most genuine and sweet person you had ever met, much to your surprise a more bashful person was being dragged behind him, “Hey Y/n! Kook, Yoongi!” Hoseok waved happily as he bounced up to the counter, Namjoon rubbing his neck as he gave you a somewhat sheepish smile before hurriedly looking at the menu. 

“Lemme get a caramel macchiato with a carrot cake bomb and...oh! Are those fresh sugar glazed pastries…!” Hoseok’s eyes practically sparkled as Yoongi cleared his throat, ears looking somewhat pink. 

“Fresh out of the oven…” He mumbled causing Jungkook to snort- as if he was any better around guys or girls for that matter. You found it all amusing as you already began working on the macchiato. 

“And Namjoon?” You turned to glance at him as he perked at the sound of his name, he glanced up at the menu as he hummed. 

“Could I try the mystic mountain tea? It sounds really good…Oh, with a chocolate stuffed croissant.” Namjoon answered as Jungkook rang them up, Hoseok’s attention was solely on Yoongi and you could tell he was excited by the way his voice became all fluttery. Yoongi rarely ever left the back room where all the baking was done. 

“It is,” Your back was turned from Namjoon as you spoke, “It’s made with mint, pine needles and chamomile but we use cane sugar with it to give it a nice sweet flavor. It’s one of my favorites.” You smiled as you turned to face him, setting down the macchiato as you grabbed another cup. Namjoon’s smile seemed automatic, his somewhat slouched figure before straightening and it seemed as if he didn’t even realize it. 

“Oh so you like gardening and tea?” He playfully quipped, rolling your eyes you turned to face the brewer again as you felt a smile tug on your lips, “You seem like a woman of many weird talents.” 

Pouring the hot water into the cup you set it down as you glanced over your shoulder, “Says the one that’s struggling to keep his Bonsai tree alive.” 

“Hey!” Namjoon’s brows pressed together and his dimples popped out making you laugh, “It’s not my fault it’s petty and sensitive to literally everything.” You waved a dismissive hand as you walked to the door to the back, intending to get the jar of tea leaves that somehow made their way back there, “Keep telling yourself that.”

Your figure disappeared as Jungkook tilted his head, a mischievous smile on his lips as he hummed, glancing between the door and Namjoon’s lopsided smile as he commented, “You know, that’s the first I think I’ve seen her smile in the past two months.” 

Namjoon glanced at him as he frowned, “What...do you mean?” He asked carefully, his thoughts going back to last night, your eyes bloodshot and tears staining your cheeks, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. But a part of him was worried at the way you seemed so melancholy. He could see it in your eyes with every interaction he had. They always seemed so sad. Namjoon was happy, grateful even though he had gotten a few glimpses at what your smile looked like happy, bright, beautiful even… 

Jungkook shrugged, not answering as you reappeared, opening the door with tea leave jar in hand as you scooped the leaves up into a metal steeper, “Alright this should be done in a few minutes.” Jungkook had meanwhile set out their pastries but it seemed like Hoseok had Yoongi trapped, his ears were pink and he looked ready to crawl back into his little hole once more. 

“So you’re coming tonight, right Yoongi?” Hoseok flashed a bright charming smile at the brooding male who shifted away from him, “It’ll be a lot of fun, Jungkook is going.” To which Jungkook enthusiastically nodded. 

“...I need to go check on my pastry puffs.” Yoongi mumbled, his cheeks bright pink as he hurried back into the kitchen as you snorted, an amused smile tugging on your lips as the doors rocked back and forth. 

Hoseok’s lips tugging into a pout as he sighed, “Do you think he hates me?” He shoved the pastry into his mouth as he glanced at his plate depressively. 

“Uh no, he’s just a panicked gay,” Jungkook clacked his tongue, “I wouldn’t take it personal. If I can’t get miss broody here to go I’ll make sure he does.” Jungkook wrapped an arm around you as you glared at him, making a cheeky smile tug on his lips. 

“You won’t go Y/n?” Hoseok shot you puppy eyes as you sighed. Hoseok was a regular at the cafe and chummy with just about everyone, if he was a sim character you just knew for a fact he’d be a friend to the world trait to a T. 

He had been coming here for the past month straight which made you wonder if Hoseok was the one who recommended Namjoon come here. 

You shook your head, offering a weak, tired smile as you shrugged, “Not my cup of tea. Speaking of.” You whirled around, pulling the steeper out of the cup before dropping in three sugar cubes before popping on the lid, “Here you go.” You handed it over to Namjoon who looked excited to try, something subtle yet innocent in his expression as he poked his straw through and gave it a sip. 

“You were right! No wonder it’s your favorite, it’s delicious.” Namjoon complimented, something about his sincere tone of voice, or maybe it was those stupid dimples of his. Whatever it was your lips tugged into a smile and yet, you felt...bashful? Lowering your gaze a little as you rubbed the back of your neck. 

“You should try the lavender dream next time if you really like tea, it’s another good one.” You offered meekly, suddenly feeling a little timid under his gaze as you fumbled with your apron. A sudden well of feelings dowsing you. Insecurity, guilt, shame. Why did you feel so bashful in front of Namjoon...how could you when...When Taehyung…

It felt like a stab in your heart as you inhaled sharply, “I-I should go check stock real quick for pastries.” You mumbled, leaving all three boys dumbfound. Entering the back you grabbed your head as you felt your hands tremble. 

Guilt

Guilt

Guilt 

Guilt 

How could you betray Taehyung like this?

You shouldn’t feel this way.

You don’t deserve to.

Taehyung would’ve never done this to you.

How could you do this to him?

Your heart was beating frantically as your hands trembled as tears began to trickle down your face, “Hey, hey, hey.” Yoongi’s voice felt far away as your breathing became quick, thoughts racing and your hands shaking. 

Unworthy

Unworthy

Unworthy

How dare you ever think about replacing Taehyung. 

“Yoongi said you had a panic attack.”

You felt like a child being scolded, wrapped in three different blankets and four pillows surrounding you while you sat on the couch in front of Jimin who frowned in disappointment. Of course he was disappointed. 

“It wasn’t that bad…” You mumbled, glancing down as you tugged the blanket around you further making Jimin sigh, sitting down next to you as he pulled you close.

“Why do you always lie?” He asked quietly as you curled against him, letting your head rest against his shoulder, the kdrama you both had been watching long forgotten. When you woke up you were home, comfortable and warm. And for a half a second, you thought maybe it was Taehyung who you were laying against. Much to your heartache it was Jimin when you opened your eyes.

You had been expecting this conversation for the past hour, and lo and behold, here you were, “It’s easier.” You mumbled, eyes beginning to blur as you scoffed a bitter smile, “I’m so pathetic, I can’t even face my own feelings. It’s just easier to keep it to myself.” 

Jimin’s grip tightened around you and even though you couldn't see him you knew he was frowning, “But that isn’t healthy Y/n, you know it just as well as I do. I worry about you, everyone does. You aren’t a burden to anyone. It hurts watching you go through this alone when we all want is to help.” 

And here it was the tears dripping down your cheeks as you shook your head, a weak sob escaping your lips as you mumbled, “If I talk about it, that means I have to accept he’s gone.” You choked out, “And I can’t do that Jimin. I can’t.” You sobbed as you glanced up at him, tears streaming down your face as you pleaded, ��I can’t.” Almost a whole year and you were still in denial just as much as you were when you first got the phone call. 

You were still just as devastated as you sobbed into his shoulder, his arms wrapped tight around you as he stroked your hair. It seemed like everyone had moved on by now. Taehyung was just a name in the past. A ghost you couldn’t let go of. Jimin was the bridge between you both, he was the reason you had met Taehyung at all, this man was like a brother to him. But even the pain for him had lessened with time. 

“I miss him too Y/n. I do. But you’re going to have to let him go,” You rapidly shook your head, your breath becoming uneven as sobs escaped you, tears staining his shirt as he murmured gently, “Taehyung wouldn’t want you to be like this.” Tears couldn’t stop pouring from your eyes, you knew he was right. But you couldn’t let him go, not yet. Just a little longer. Just a little longer. 

Taehyung was a ghost and you were desperately clinging to every remnant you had left of him. This man was the love of your life, your soulmate, you needed him. You needed him. How were you supposed to move on with your life when you had to live with the knowledge of what could’ve been. Your body violently trembled as you drown yourself in tears next to Jimin who was always so strong. 

The only time you ever saw him lose it was when you bursted into the hallway in the hospital, his eyes were bloodshot and all it took was one exchanged look before a dam was released in his eyes. Maybe he had numbed himself to the pain, it was difficult to tell. Jimin let his nose bury into your hair as he inhaled softly, tenderly stroking your hair in the same way Taehyung always would in these moments. 

‘Baby, hey…Shhh…Come on don’t cry. What’s going on?” You shook your head rapidly as you tugged away from Taehyung’s grip, his hands keeping you in place and his face twisted into worry before he cupped your cheeks, “Sweetheart.” He pressed his forehead against yours. 

“i-I-It’s stupid…” You whimpered as you closed your eyes, shaking your head as he pressed a kiss against your nose encouragingly, sucking in a harsh breath you sobbed out, “I-I overheard your conversation with Hyuna.” 

Taehyung immediately frowned as he sighed softly, his thumbs soothingly rubbing your cheeks as he mumbled, “Baby don’t listen to her. She’s just a jealous old ex.” 

“She’s right.” You laughed bitterly as you refused to look at him, “I don’t deserve to be with somebody like you-”

“Hey.” Taehyung’s voice was stern, his hands making you look at him as he pressed his forehead back against yours as he mumbled, “Don’t you ever say that about yourself, okay? I love you Y/n, you’re my girl okay? I would never take anyone else over you.” You closed your eyes as your lips trembled, his lips soothingly pressing against yours as his thumbs stroked your cheekbones. 

It was a gentle kiss, your favorite as you complied, chasing his lips as he tried to pull back, making him chuckle against your mouth as he pressed multiple little kisses on your lips before breaking away making you whine with a sniffle, “Come on baby, let’s go get you some noodles, I’m sure it’ll make you feel better.” He gave you a warm smile as he brushed your tears away. 

Smiling you giggled a little as you wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him tight as you mumbled, “What would I ever do without you?”

“Crash and burn probably.” Taehyung joked with that adorable boxy smile of his as you smacked his arm, leaning on your tiptoes as you puckered your lips. Tutting he leaned down pressing one more chaste kiss on your lips.

Crash and burn, you wanted to laugh, he wasn’t wrong. He never was. 

Jimin had eventually gotten you to calm down, a cup of hot chocolate in your hands and your legs over his lap, still curled close, but enough away to keep your grip on your warm drink, “How has work been, hm?” Jimin asked, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face as you sighed. 

Shrugging a little you sipped the sweet liquid as you mumbled, “Same as always. Met one of Hoseok’s friends recently, he seems...interesting.” You rubbed your forehead, trying not to think about what happened earlier that day. 

“Oh? Well it’s good you’re making new friends. Maybe he’ll be good for you.” Jimin smiled, patting your head as you tried to swat it, “Friends always come into your life when you need them the most.” 

You didn’t comment on that, choosing to drink your hot chocolate as you glanced at the TV. Maybe he was right, maybe he was wrong. You didn’t know, but you needed to be careful around Namjoon. If anything you knew that as sure as day.

You kept mainly in your thoughts the rest of the evening but Jimin kept you company the whole time, stroking your hair calmly while watching kdramas together. For the first time, you fell asleep easier tonight then you had in the last eight months.

——

You sharply inhaled as you clenched your fists, you were going to do this…! You could do this. You glanced up at the art museum in determination before stepping up the stone stairs towards the entrance doors. It was crowded today and usually you liked shying away from large crowds. But he never cared, always tugging you along with encouragement and laughter, somehow, he always made it so much fun.

Today a Degas exhibit was in town, the one Taehyung had been so excited about seeing, you still vividly remembered his bouncing figure as he shoved the flyer in your face. Your hands trembled as you opened the door. You wanted to see it today, for him. Clutching the Polaroid camera in hand tightly as your fingers traced against its smooth surface. He loved using this damn thing every chance he got.

He’d take at least a dozen photos of all the art pieces, even going as far as to shove the camera in your hands to pose in that dumb artsy way he always did. You felt the distinct smile tug on your lips imaging that brown burette on his head and those dark raven locks. Boxy smile reflecting back at you as he grabbed your hand tugging you along while spouting off random knowledge about whatever you were looking at. 

You paused for a second, looking beside you as you felt a well in your throat at the sight of the crowd instead of your someone beside you. Closing your eyes you swallowed thickly as you forced yourself to breathe, trying to compose yourself.

With determination you walked up to the counter, purchasing a ticket to the exhibit before making your way down the massive lobby, artwork displayed on either sides of the walls and your shoes echoing against the smooth glossy floor. The exhibit was packed as expected but you stopped at each painting, letting your eyes draw over the dreamy muted yet colorful painting. 

The Dancer On Pointe was the one Taehyung was looking forward to the most. Ignoring the ‘No Pictures’ sign you lifted up the polaroid camera, clicking it as the photo began to develop. Giving the photo a wave you smiled as you glanced at it. This was perfect. 

Putting the camera and photo into your bag you made your way through the exhibit.

You looked at every painting intensively, hoping maybe the lense of your old lover would bless your vision and you’d be able to see it in the way he once showed you every single time. But to no avail, paintings were just paint, colors were just pigment. The magic was no longer there. Sighing you turned away from the paintings displayed beautifully, intending to leave before you smacked into someone, “Ah!” 

“Oh I’m sorry!” The voice which had become all too familiar grabbed ahold of you to steady you as you glanced up to meet the eyes of Kim Namjoon, round specs  between you and his gaze as he pushed them up against his nose, lips parting before twisting into a brilliant smile, “Y/n! Sorry I didn’t see you there!” 

“O-oh...Hey.” You stepped away from him awkwardly, your gaze lowering as you tugged on a strand of hair, your heart beating faster but you could hardly tell if it was from anxiety or something else. You had been…you didn’t want to say you had been avoiding Namjoon but, he made you feel weird. In a way you weren’t sure you liked and you couldn’t even fully describe it. 

“I didn’t know you liked going to the art museum! It’s nice seeing you here, I’ve missed you at work-” Namjoon suddenly coughed, immediately glancing away as he fumbled, “Not-uh- not miss, miss you but...you know…” He looked awkward and his eyes widened as he refused to look at you as if you’d turn him to stone if he did. 

You snorted, unable to keep the smile off your face as you replied lowly, “No I get it, just bad timing,” Or you purposely scrambled into the back leaving Jungkook on his own everytime you caught sight of Namjoon opening the cafe door, “But uh, I’m...not actually a fan of going here.” You shrugged as you glanced down at your feet. 

“Oh?” He tilted his head in curiosity, “Then...can I ask why you’re here? Or did you just wanna bump into me?” There was something...light -playful- in Namjoon’s voice as he flashed those dimples at you. 

You kept your expression reserved this time making his smile dim a little as you glanced back at the painting, “I just came...for someone who couldn’t…” Your expression casted more gloomy this time as you wrapped your arms around yourself, looking back at Namjoon who seemed somewhat confused at your cryptic words, “I’ve never been a big art person.” You offered a weak smile. 

“Well,” Namjoon hummed, giving you a small smile in return, “I hope that someone was able to enjoy your visit for them.” Your heart clenched as you glanced at his shoes, timberlands that blurred in your vision as you gave a bittersweet smile. 

“Yeah…” You nodded as you glanced up at Namjoon, a frown immediately on his face at your glassy eyes and sad smile as you nodded, “He did.” You hadn’t even said his name and yet sadness had swept through your whole body like an ache you’d never cure. The longing you had for your soulmate who was gone, who you’d never wake up beside, who would never hold your hand again, who’s smile you’d never see as he pointed out all of his favorite paintings. 

But Taehyung would be proud of you, wouldn’t he? Perhaps, if there was an afterlife, he would be an angel that was smiling while looking down upon you. 

“Y/n…” You felt your lurch in your throat, as if it felt physically difficult to speak as Namjoon called your name softly, tufts of warm brown hair falling against his eyebrows as he asked with sincerity, “Do you wanna get lunch together? I know a great artisan cafe nearby.” 

It was silent between you both for what felt like an eternity in nothing but a short second as you glanced back at the painting, and for a brief moment your eyes caught onto a sight of raven shaggy hair and an oversized brown cardigan. It looked all too familiar and your heart fluttered for just a brief moment until he turned around, not the face of your lover, but a stranger who embraced his girlfriend with a laugh. 

Sighing, you turned to face Namjoon as you offered a weak smile, “No thank you, I actually have somewhere I’m supposed to be.” You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer, rather you chose to step aside and brush past him, feeling a melancholy gaze against your back but you refused to turn around. 

Not when your heart ached and you felt so tired. 

Stopping by the quaint little flowershop you had picked out a small bouquet of tiger lilies, his favorite, he used to love decorating the apartment to the brim with them, walking out of the shop you took a shaky breath of the cool air. 

The evening sky was brilliant, Taehyung often remarked it was like God personally painted the sky every evening, always different from the previous day but just as beautiful in it’s own right. Your feet felt heavy on the pavement as you sighed, stopping at the arched gateway, glancing to your right where the sunset was shielded by the silhouettes of willow tree’s that gently swayed in a slow dance with the wind. 

Stepping through you weave your way around the grassy corridors of walkways before you were near the middle of the cemetery, pausing in front of the gravestone where wilted flowers laid and dirt from the lawn mower had sputtered up against. 

Kneeling down you gently wiped off the stone as your fingers gently traced the name of your lover, “I went to the art museum today,” Your eyes were already blurry as you smiled endearingly at Taehyung’s name printed on the stone, setting down the blossom of tiger lilies as you crossed your legs, “To go see that Degas exhibit we had made plans to see last Autumn. Ha…” You let out a short laugh as tears trickled down your face, “Do you remember when we got the catalogue in the mail? You knocked over your mug of coffee and it stained over half the pages,” You tried to keep your voice steady as a sob escaped you, rubbing your eyes as you gave a broken laugh, “You freaked out about it  because it was hard to make out the dates but I told you to calm down and looked up the dates on the website.” 

You wiped your face with your arms as you opened your bag up, grabbing the polaroid as more tears immediately dripped down your cheeks, “Here! Don’t you like it?” You asked as you set down the photo with the flowers, smiling despite the tears that welled in your eyes, “I know it’s your favorite, you wouldn’t stop gushing about it when you first saw the exhibit advertisement.” 

It was quiet for a moment as you lowered your gaze, a whimper escaping you at the expected silence, tears dripping down your chin and splattering onto your hand as you sobbed, “Please come back.” 

Your breath was trembling and desperate as you grabbed the gravestone, pressing your forehead against it as you tried to vividly imagine it was your lovers warm skin as your tears dampened the stone, “Please come back to me Taehyung. Don’t leave me alone. Please.” 

Alone, you cried in the cemetery where your lover would permanently stay asleep.

“Just think about it Noona!” Jungkook whined as he grabbed your arm making you sigh as you turned to face him, “It’s a camping trip! We’ll be in nature, maybe you’ll feel better! I get worried about you sometimes.” 

That wasn’t fair! 

You crossed your arms as you sighed again, looking away from him as you felt guilty, not wanting to worry anyone but, you just needed time to yourself. You didn’t know when it would go away, if ever, but you just wanted to be by yourself. Alone were you could mourn in peace, where your heart could ache and tears could fill your eyes with zero shame. 

Everyday that you spent ever since had become more and more painful. The ache became that much harder to deal, “Jungkook...you know I don’t like camping…” You mumbled as you turned away from him, rearranging some of the tea canisters to look busy. 

“But you love gardening!” Jungkook whined again, fluttering beside you with those sweet doe eyes of his that always seemed to get you. 

“There’ll be a log cabin,” Yoongi added as he appeared from the kitchen, setting down a fresh platter of bakery goods, “So it really isn’t camping, unless you’re gonna be Jungkook and set up a tent anyways.”

Jungkook flailed his hands as he glared at his elder, “What’s the point in calling it a camping trip if we aren’t going to camp?” Always the stubborn and hardheaded person he was, Jungkook insisted on his words as he crossed his arms with that pouty expression of his. 

“Nobody called it a camping trip except you.” Yoongi turned to face him deadpan, Jungkook’s lips parted several times before defeatingly closing them as Yoongi snorted, “Yeah, exactly. Anyways, you should go. Shop is going to be closed anyways since Bang is going out of town to visit his parents. Unless you really wanna sulk in your apartment all week…” He shrugged as you sharply inhaled. 

“I’ll think about it…” Jungkook immediately jumped, wrapping his arms around you as he smushed you against him making you squirm, “Thank you Noona! You’ll camp with me right?” He bounced in excitement as you pushed him away from you. Jungkook always had a lack of boundaries especially when he got excited. 

“No.” You replied promptly as you turned around making him cross his arms with a humph, “Be happy I’m at least considering, you ungrateful brat.” To which Jungkook smiled cheekily. Sighing you leaned against the counter top with a hum. Maybe this would be good for you. You knew if Taehyung was here he’d be thrilled to go, immediately begging you to go with him and even saying he refused to go without you. You could never deprive him of something he loved and enjoyed. 

Maybe...just maybe…

The doors just as always at twelve thirty rang as you all glanced up to see the embodiment of the sun wave and his moon beside him who was always more reserved, “Hey! You guys are going on the trip up to the cabin right?” Hoseok bounced up to the register as he set his hands up on it and leaned forward. 

“Yes and we’re camping!” Jungkook wrapped an arm around your neck, squeezing it causing you to gag as you jammed your elbow into his stomach causing him to grunt before whining. 

“No we are not!” You whipped around as you glared at him, your lips tugging into a pout of your own as you glared at the younger boy who stubbornly crossed his arms once more. 

“Oh you’re going Y/n?” Hoseok clapped his hands in excitement as you glanced at the two men, instinctively lowering your gaze a little when you felt Namjoon’s eyes on you. They seemed sadder than normal. 

Which wasn’t normal at all. Namjoon was- he always smiled, so why didn’t he today when your eyes met his? 

“I might,” You admitted reluctantly, “I need to think it over.” Was he still thinking about your rejection at the art museum? Or your cryptic and weird words? Did he assume you were just a sad freak. A part of you desperately wondered why you didn’t see those sweet dimples today. 

“Well don’t take too long,” Hoseok winked playfully as he grinned brightly, “We’re leaving Friday and we sure could use the company. Right Namjoon?” He elbowed the quiet man a little causing him to jolt before harshly glaring at Hoseok who seemed like a little boy who had a secret he was dying to tell. 

Namjoon glanced back at you as he mustered a weak smile, but you could see in his eyes they weren’t glowing like they were before, “Of course we’d like you to come. But don’t feel pressured.” You nodded as you glanced back at the counter top. Unable to bear his gaze anymore. Trying not to overthink why he seemed so melancholy today. 

Or perhaps he was always like this and your head had just played tricks on you? No...No you could remember Namjoon’s smile as clear as day, it was bright and lovely, his eyes glowed not like the sun- not burning and harsh- but like the moon, soft and almost nostalgic as if he lived every moment of his life with gratitude and peace. 

So what happened? The only thing you could recall was what had previously happened. But surely he wasn’t upset about that? After all, he shouldn’t want to deal with a heartbroken girl who only knew how to cry. 

Unless....No…”Well I better go get more chocolate bombs for the holder.” You mumbled as you turned around, pushing the door to the back open as you shoved your thoughts to the back of your head. You wouldn’t let your mind go there.

----

You couldn’t help but feel like this was a mistake, no matter how crisp and fresh the air was, the lake view was gorgeous and reflection off the water made it look like diamonds trickled against its surface. The car ride was over four hours and you were grateful to be on your feet with all the greenery. 

You were definitely tired, not used to being around people so long outside of work after the past year. Feeling semi lethargic you let out a yawn as you rubbed your eyes, “Aren’t you excited Noona?” Jungkook curled his fists, his nose scrunched up like a bunny as he grinned like a child, “I told you it would be pretty here!”

You were tired, definitely, but you mustered a smile, a small one as you replied, “Yeah...it is.” You glanced back out over the lake before fixing your bag over your shoulder. Like Jungkook said, this would be good for you...hopefully...The cabin was fairly big and everyone, even you helped pitched in the rent for it for the next two days. Jimin was excited for you, telling you to try and enjoy yourself and if all else failed he’d come and pick you up. 

You would certainly try your best to not let that happen though, of course Jimin would be willing to drive eight hours for you on a work day. Everyone was still outside, you could hear shouts and laughter, water splashing as you stepped inside the cabin. 

It was warm and cozy, buried in neutrals and warm colors, blankets piled on the couch that sat in front of the fireplace. Walking around you examined each room before smiling a little, choosing the one that had a lake view, Taehyung would certainly love it. Pulling the polaroid camera out of your bag you lifted it up before taking a photo of the window. You’d make sure to bring it to show him when you came back home. 

“I didn’t take you for polaroids.” 

You jumped as your gaze snapped to the person who seemed to become all too familiar with you the past month now. Pulling the photograph out of the dispenser you gave it a little wave as silence sat between you both, “I’m not.” You mumbled as you carefully set the camera back in your bag, your thumbs edging the sharp stiff ends of the photo. 

“Y/n,” You didn’t look up at him despite his voice sounding soft, feet gently padding against the floor and he was surely right behind you now, Namjoon’s voice soft, maybe even a little sad as he murmured, “Why do you always seem so sad when I ask?”

Letting your fingers trace against the photocard you let a small melancholy smile tug on your lips, “Because,” Your eyes blurred a little and your throat felt tight as you mumbled, “These things I do, going to art museums, taking polaroids, I do them because,” You turned to face Namjoon as a tear slid down your cheek, “He loved it. Even if I never did. I do it for him..” 

Namjoon’s expression had hardened a little, he seemed lost, maybe even angry, maybe he was tired of constantly seeing tears in your eyes, he bowed his head a little, eyes seeming somewhat broody as he muttered, “I see…I’ll leave you to it, I guess…” 

You weren’t sure why your heart clenched at the way his face seemed so forlorn, broody as he turned on his heels. Your throat squeezing and his name never reached your lips like you instinctively wanted too. 

You thought that, maybe when he left you’d feel better, more at peace. But that broody expression haunted you as you sat up in the window seal loft, letting your knee’s curl against your chest as a dull ache came from your heart. 

This ache was different, it wasn’t like the one you had anytime you thought of your soulmate. This was...different. New. Like something was wilted but still had a chance. Your chest felt heavy and your mind was telling you to go after Namjoon, to get him to smile and clear up whatever misunderstanding there was. You didn’t understand either, truthfully, what did you say to make him look like that? 

You had opened yourself up and told him a little and he...he acted gloomy, as if life was sucked from his body. You didn’t understand but...but you’d like too...Watching everyone splash and muffled screams from the window you let your head press against the glass as you sighed. Closing your eyes, even in the crowdest places you always felt so lonely. 

-----

 It was a full moon out tonight, glossy and incandescent to anything you had ever seen. Oftentimes when you felt lonely Taehyung used to always tell you, ‘Just look at the moon whenever you feel lonely. Someone at that exact moment is looking at it as well. You’re never truly alone’

It always made you feel better, even now. Someone was probably looking at this same moon as you right now and you couldn’t help but wonder. What were they thinking? Was there a reason they were admiring such a beautiful sight as the sky? Carefully you slipped on your shoes, curling the cardigan around your body as you opened the main door of the cabin before walking outside. 

Grassing brushing softly against your feet and crickets cooed with the rustle of trees and cool air, it was a little humid out but not hot enough to make you want to shed your cozy layer. Walking down the path you glanced up at the sky were the stars speckled across the deep midnight blue horizon. 

You paused on your walk when you noticed a little wooden bridge, it wasn’t the cute sight itself but the person who stood on it, “Namjoon?” You called out softly to the man who was leaning over the railing, observing the moon that sat in the painted sky. He jolted before whipping around as you approached slowly. 

“Y/n…?” He seemed surprised, of course he was, it was only two in the morning after all. You were supposed to be the only one out here right here, trying to clear your head, let go of what your heart didn’t want too. 

Wrapping your arms around yourself you stepped onto the bridge as you murmured softly, “May I join you?” It was hard making out his facial expressions in the moonlight, but you thought maybe you saw hesitation on his face for a brief moment. 

“Of course,” Even in the dark you could spot those pretty dimples, leaning back against the railing he hummed, “You’re always a pleasant company to have.” For some reason, his words took you off guard. They seemed...sincere, yet, distant perhaps? They seemed odd given the last time you had spoken. 

You let your arms rest against the railing beside him, crickets sounding and the water gently lapped, even in the dark though the moonlight reflected against the water making it sparkle with assorted gems. It was quiet between you both yet the pressure in your chest swelled, the sudden need to apologize for earlier today. You weren’t sure why it felt imperative to do so. Or as if it was even necessary. 

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong earlier-” “I’m sorry about what I said earlier-” 

It seemed you were not the only one to have an apology on your mind. Both you and Namjoon had bursted at the same time before pausing, tripping over one anothers words before you stopped altogether. Glancing at him briefly before you both began to laugh softly. 

“I’m sorry- uh you can go first!” You squeaked, glancing away from him as you looked back out over the water, letting your body lean against the old wooden grooves that scraped lightly against your skin. 

Namjoon was silent for a moment before he replied, somewhat quiet, maybe even shy? “Well…” He drawled, “I just...wanted to apologize about earlier. My words were unnecessary and I shouldn’t have asked you such a personal question. You have every right to feel the way you do and it wasn’t my place to ask something like that.” 

It was silent for another moment before you let your eyes flit to Namjoon’s figure, you could make out the silhouette of his face which seemed almost forlorn, in deep thought as he looked out over the moon, “Oh…” You mumbled, as you glanced back at your hands, fingers tracing the dry harsh groove of the wooden railing, “Well...I just wanted to say I’m sorry for…” You paused for a moment, what were you apologising for? “...being me I guess.” 

You didn’t mean for it to sound depressing, but you supposed it was the truth, you felt like you had become nothing but a shell of a person since what had happened. Like you had become closed off, difficult to get to know, moody, temperamental. It was no wonder Namjoon was so fed up with your constant switch in behavior, “I know I’m...me...but...thank you for tolerating it. It’s nice having someone outside of my friends to talk to.” 

“Don’t apologize for that.” Your gaze jumped to Namjoon, a little startled at how stern his voice was, you couldn’t necessarily see him but you could feel his sharp, judgmental gaze on your figure, “I’m sure you have your reasons. And truthfully, like I said. I just… had clouded judgment,” Namjoon murmured cryptically, “I let my emotions get in the way when I talked to you earlier today. I’m more than happy to be your friend Y/n! You aren’t a burden or something I’m just tolerating, I talk to you because I like you.” 

You felt better but....something still felt withered inside you...you mustered a smile as you shrugged, “I guess so...I know I’m not always responsive sometimes...but...if we’re okay then let’s not talk about what happened anymore! What are you doing out here so late?” You didn’t want to dwell on what happened, it made you feel icky and gross inside even after clearing things up with Namjoon, you still didn’t understand why it wouldn’t go away. 

Namjoon laughed a little as he shrugged, “To think, I’ve always been a bit of a moon child honestly. Looking up at the sky always helps me clear my head. I should be asking you what you’re doing out this late.”

You rubbed the back of your neck bashfully as you shrugged, “I couldn’t sleep tonight, I like going out on walks, get out of my room, my head.” You glanced down at the rippling water, a frown on your face as you held in a sigh. Truthfully, you couldn’t sleep because Namjoon’s expression kept playing in your head. The way he seemed so distant and cold earlier, it bothered you to no end yet you didn’t understand why.

So you came out here to look at the moon in the open, feel the warm air on your skin and maybe you’d find whatever you were looking for. It seemed, what you had been looking for was Namjoon, and of course there he was, on this bridge. You didn’t know what this meant or what to take away from it. But you were happy you found him regardless.

“I can understand that,” Namjoon chuckled softly, his expression soft as he glanced up at the night sky, gaze still somewhat muted compared to before but...it still seemed sad, maybe the kind of sad where you just accept a situation for what it was, “Well, at least the moon brought us together.” 

His gaze met yours as you mirrored his smile, a little bashful as you rubbed your cheek, looking out over the rippling water as you mumbled, “I guess it did…” Letting your chin rest against your arms as you stretched out your back. There was something… oddly comforting about Namjoon’s presence? You weren’t sure, but you liked it…

You really liked it.

“Have you ever considered that Plato was just on drugs the whole time he was writing?” You slurped on your noodles as you glanced up to meet Namjoon’s exasperated expression making you smile as you snorted. 

“Dualism?” 

“Drugs. Who the fuck thinks about the mind and body being seperated in like 11 AD?” You snorted again as Namjoon groaned, sinking into his seat. He had been trying to talk about his latest readings to you and you had been...not making fun of it! Just...making the conversation interesting, “No seriously, didn’t they burn women back then for just knowing how to read? It just seems so...primitive for philosophy to be introduced so early in time with all things considering back then….”

Namjoon rubbed his face as he sighed, unable to resist the smile that tugged on his lips as he clacked his tongue, “Alright fair enough, what do you suggest we talk about then if you refuse to talk philosophy.” 

You puckered your lips, holding your chopsticks animately as you replied, “We could talk about how corrupt the patriarchy was throughout time and how men used religion as a way to justify the oppression of women and slavery?” 

You snorted at the way Namjoon, for the first time in your friendship seemed speechless, perhaps impressed, or simply just stunned before he sighed with a shrug, “Alright fine, but first of all some women actually did have some say in different cultures. But it had a lot more to do with classism then gender. Take a look at the Spartans as examples.” 

You held up a finger as you replied, “Except the only reason women received burials was because they gave birth to Spartans? I mean A for effort I guess,” You rolled your eyes, “But that doesn’t change the fact that women were only honored for giving birth to men, still seems like a convoluted way of saying women weren’t worth even burials unless they were of some use to men.” 

Namjoon hummed as he rubbed his chin, “Fair point, really I think because-” 

“Well look who it is!”

Both you and Namjoon jumped at the sound of a chipper loud voice, your lips twisted into a mild frown at the sight of Jungkook and Hoseok’s shit eating grins, without invitation immediately plopping down in the booth, Jungkook sitting beside you and Hoseok mirroring him, “So what are you two doing on this fine day?” 

There was something in Jungkook’s tone that made you shift awkwardly, why did he sound like you both were up to something when you weren’t, rubbing the back of your neck you mumbled, somewhat reluctantly, “Well we were just having lunch…?” 

“Oh, you mean like-” Hoseok suddenly grunted in pain, Namjoon harshly elbowing him as he cut his eyes at his best friend. You glanced between the both of them, it seemed like they were having a conversation by only facial expressions before Namjoon spoke up, “We were just talking about the oppression of women through history. Thoughts?” 

Both Hoseok and Jungkook wrinkled their noses, never ones to get involved in these kinds of discussions no matter how true they may be. Rather than talk about that, it seemed they had come over to, what? Stir the pot?

“Nah,” Jungkook attempted to wrap an arm around your neck as you shoved him away, a grin on his face as he hummed, “I just haven’t seen Noona getting out as of late, it’s good to see you both together.” Now you were feeling weird. Rubbing the back of your neck you looked away from all of them, well aware of your expression becoming flatter by the moment. 

Namjoon was beginning to look apprehensive as well as he coughed, “Uh, well, we were just eating…?” He seemed somewhat sheepish and even if it was unsaid you could tell he was trying to make it clear this wasn’t a date...Right? You had paused mentally for a moment, but...this did kind of seem like a date…

No, friends could hang out! You nodded to yourself silently, Namjoon was a friend and you needed friends, and in order to make friends you had to hang out! And even so, it wasn’t like Namjoon was interested in you and...you...you....a lump in your throat formed as you pucker your lips on your cup. No you weren’t gonna go there. 

“Right…!” Hoseok gave a bright yet odd smile as him and Jungkook shared a laugh, as if they knew something you didn’t, “Well, we’ll just ah...let you two get back to it.” He winked as Jungkook wiggled a brow at you before they both got up. 

You felt confusion wash over you as you watched them both walk away, frowning a little as you sank back in your seat, “That was weird.” Were the first words that tumbled out of your lips. On one hand you wanted to ask why they were acting like that but...wasn’t it obvious…? 

Namjoon offered a weak smile as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah…” His reply was hardly a murmur though as he looked down at his pork bulgogi looking not nearly as hungry as he proclaimed he was twenty minutes ago. 

The rest of your lunch had become...stale...no matter how hard you or Namjoon tried the air of what had happened with Hoseok and Jungkook lingered and continued to pester the back of your head. What were they trying to insinuate? That it was a date? Because it wasn’t…! You weren’t…! You could feel frustration tug inside your subconscious but you didn’t understand why. 

Namjoon and you were currently walking on the sidewalk, namely back to your apartment which just so happened to be on the same path as one of Namjoon’s acqtuance’s house where he had promised he would help them study. The weather was nice today, the wind was blowing a cool breeze and the sun was warm on your skin. On harder days you often tried to sunbathe, to soak in it’s rays and feel it’s warmth. You had read somewhere that if you soaked up enough warmth that it would manifest into positivity.

Or maybe that was just something you made up to make yourself feel better? On dimmer days you like grounding yourself in your five senses, even if they seemed dull and void. Today was not a bad day though. Not for the weather and neither for you. In fact, it was perfect. The air was fresh and you could smell the lavender bushes on the sidewalk that had been planted waft with each blow of breeze. 

“I’m really sorry for what happened.” You opened your eyes as you paused, looking at Namjoon who walked beside you, his cheeks looked a little red and he wouldn’t meet your gaze as you tilted your head, unsure of what there was to be sorry for. His gaze flicked to yours, seeing your confusion before immediately following up, “About Hoseok and Jungkook...ah…” He gave a somewhat weak smile as he looked away, hesitation in his eyes, “It feels like they made things weird…”

“No..!” You immediately shook your head, not wanting to make him feel worse by admitting they really did make you feel odd, but you were positive that was your own self projection, after all you had that tendency with Namjoon since you first met… “It’s fine, you don’t need to apologize.” You offered a soft smile as you began to walk again, Namjoon following along said to you as you continued, “It was weird yeah, but, I mean we’re still friends so…” Pausing in front of the entrance of your apartment complex you shrugged as you smiled, “Don’t worry about it! They’re just being dumb. Anyways, i’ll see you later.” 

You offered one last smile before heading into your apartment, Namjoon deflating somewhat as he sighed, watching you walk away once again as he rubbed the back of his neck, kicking a small pebble that had surfaced from the pebble surface of the resident sign, “Yeah...friends…” 

Namjoon decided to not linger on your words, the more he thought about it the more it stung and he didn’t want to act like a kicked puppy, you didn’t owe him anything other then your friendship he just...He sighed as he began walking to his friends home, surely he’d give good advice. After all, Seokjin was highly popular with women. 

After arriving at his apartment Namjoon hadn’t intended on letting out as much as he did, but it was admittedly nice to unload all of his feelings without feeling obligated to hold back, if he told his best friend he knew Hoseok would only make things worse despite having good intentions. 

“So,” Seokjin plopped the sucker into his mouth, leaning back on the bed as his eyes glazed over the textbook, “You what…? Wanna bang her? What’s the deal?” 

“No!” Namjoon immediately objected before groaning as he sank back in his seat, unsure of how to explain, “I don’t just want to sleep with her…” He muttered, “I just...want to get to know her. But it feels like there's this…” He waved his hand around, “Invisible wall, like she doesn’t want me to get to know her. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to make her like this though…” He paused a moment, evaluating all of his past actions. Namjoon was positive he was a nice guy, you owed him nothing but, he had hoped maybe at least his behavior would explain why you were like this yet...He genuinely couldn’t think of anything. 

Well except maybe back last month at the cabin when he had gotten cold, the memory made him wince but...you had been even worse before then...So what was it…? Namjoon felt helpless as he glanced at his elder who shrugged loosely, pulling the sucker from his mouth as he replied, “Maybe it’s just her Namjoon. Regardless she doesn’t sound interested so you shouldn’t get your hopes up.” 

Namjoon paused, could it just be you…? He never actually thought about it before, always assuming he was the problem. Not that you were the problem but, “I just wish things weren’t so easy to become awkward between us.” He sighed as he flipped the page of his book. 

Seokjin eyed him curiously as he hummed, “Well what do you mean? Awkward how?” Seokjin didn’t consider himself a playboy like many would dub him but he had definitely gotten around enough to at least get an idea of how women worked emotionally, when to pursue and when to back off. 

Namjoon shrugged as he replied, “It’s just...weird...I can tell she starts overthinking and questioning. Like it’s difficult for her to even go out for just lunch with me. Awkward like, just the idea of being on a date with me makes her wanna bail...that kind of awkward…” He slumped in his seat, “Am I really that unlikeable?” 

Seokjin snorted, curving a brow at his friend who looked rather pathetic at the moment, “I think,” Tapping his lip Seokjin hummed, “She has some stuff she’s sorting out, and it’s not you. It’s just her, I’m sure if you asked her that, she’d say the same. If you haven’t been an ass to her in any way shape or form, it sounds like she’s just working through some stuff. Sucks but hey, you won’t know if you don’t ask…” 

Namjoon groaned, he knew Seokjin was right, if he’d just got the balls and asked you he was positive you’d give him an answer...well- doubt filled his mind, “I think her last boyfriend left her, or...maybe he hurt her? I don’t know.”

This perked Seokjin’s attention, straightening a little as he curved a brow, “Oh?” 

Rubbing his neck he shrugged as he weakly replied, “Yeah, she mentions some guy sometimes, whenever I ask about the things she does which she doesn’t enjoy. Like that polaroid she carries around, or she sometimes goes out to museums. I don’t know.” Jealousy oozed despite Namjoon knowing he had no right to feel jealous. 

Just the idea of someone hurting you deeply upset and angered him though, especially if it was to the point of you closing your heart to anyone else, Seokjin pressed his lips together, “Huh...that is kind of weird. Well…” Seokjin rose a brow as he emphasised his words while glaring Namjoon down, “Guess you’ll never know if you don’t ask.” Namjoon could only muster a groan. Asking you had to be the worst idea ever. 

----

“Come on! Noona it’ll be a fun way for you to get out!” You sighed in exasperation, looking away from Jungkook’s big puppy eyes that were just begging you to go with him, it was already hard enough to get yourself out of bed by noon today just to meet up with him for lunch let alone going to a party tonight. 

“Jungkook,” You pressed your lips together, trying to look at him only for him to whine as he shifted in his seat, the food court in the mall was packed today with life and energy, you had promised Jungkook you’d help him shop for more dressy clothes today as he was...attempting to pursue someone. Whoever that may be as he was too shy to say, “You know I’m not into parties…” 

“Just this once!” Jungkook begged as he laced his fingers together, sitting up in his seat with his lips jutted into a pitiful pout, “I’ll stay with you the whole time Noona! I think it’ll be fun! And if it isn’t we can go home the moment you say and- and I’ll buy you some kimbap and we can watch a movie of your choice!” 

He drove a hard bargain, you sighed as you sunk into your seat, crossing your arms in thought, you supposed...there couldn’t be any harm in going…? You pressed your lips together as you closed your eyes briefly, just thinking about this made you exhausted but you knew Jimin would be ecstatic if you had went out tonight, he had been encouraging you to get out more and….”Okay let’s say, I went to this party...who would be there?” 

Jungkook’s lips parted in excitement as you cut him off, “That I know.” 

His lips immediately snapped shut once more, as his eyes dropped to the table somewhat sheepishly, “Look, Noona...Think of it like this, it’s a great opportunity to meet new people! Hoseok and Namjoon will be there! You know them! And they know people you could meet too! I’ll be there for what it’s worse…” He gave a bright bunny smile as you looked away from him, “Hey! Don’t give me that look!” He cried out with another pout on his face. 

Taehyung and you both never enjoyed parties, he was a social butterfly sure but he always said he hated the taste of alcohol and besides, what was the point in going out when he could just stay in with you. It felt like a bitter prick against your heart at the bitter reminder. Right, you were gonna stay in tonight, maybe cry in the shower, wear that set of pajamas that used to match with his while watching a stupid romcom he loved. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Hey Y/n.” 

You closed your eyes as you put your hands on your face trying to cover the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “Sorry.” You sniffed as you felt both shame and embarrassment coil inside your body, all this time and you can hardly even think about him without crying still. It’s no wonder Jungkook probably doesn’t want to hang out with you. 

“Noona!” Jungkook cried out, “You have nothing to apologize for, look,” He fumbled somewhat frantically as he gathered up the trash of your left over food, “You don’t have to go, it was just a suggestion! I don’t want you to be sad though so let’s go over to the Gap and I want your opinion on these two shirts okay?” 

You sniffled as you rubbed your watery eyes, a snort escaping you as you replied, “The Gap has ugly clothing Jungkook.” To which he gasped in offense as you stood up with him. 

“First of all don’t judge until you see, second of all you have horrible taste Noona, no offense.” You rolled your eyes despite the tiny smile tugging on your lips as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Maybe, Jungkook was right, and after all…he said he’d take you home if you weren’t having fun...

This was an awful idea. There was no backing out of this idea once you expressed your interest to Jungkook and he dragged you from store to store because this outing was no longer about him as it was finding something new for you to wear, he had even insisted on paying for it himself. 

Jungkook was no longer in sight nor on your mind as he had been talking to Hoseok last you had seen him, who was cheerifully talking to him despite the shy look on his face. Of course he had gotten your permission, not wanting to leave you by yourself, just as he promised he wouldn’t. For as much of annoying brat as he was, he was also truly a sweetheart.

“Are you okay?” Your concern however, wasn’t on Jungkook right now given you were no longer downstairs as you paused and turned towards Namjoon who looked like he was having a mid life crisis despite being twenty four and at a frat party- but you supposed being younger than twenty one at something like this could cause that.

Namjoon’s eyes darted at the closed door and his mouth felt dry, opting to nod instead as you sat down on the bed. Truthfully you had made the pack to just stick to Jungkook tonight and let him do the talking but  it was by chance you bumped into Namjoon here who had also been dragged to this party by his friend- Seokjin who was apparently a frat brother at this fraternity.

It was loud and the whole place reeked of weed, whoever wasn’t locked in a haze was definitely drunk and it had been over all unpleasant. 

The one saving grace you had found was Namjoon, it was too loud downstairs and with Jungkook off with Hoseok you kept getting interrupted by other people asking for him. Finally asking if Namjoon would like to go upstairs where it would be more quiet. 

And here you were, “It’s nice up here.” You glanced around the semi clean room, “At least it smells like Axe.” Which wasn’t much better than marijuana but you’d take it.

Namjoon snorted as he plopped down on the bed, a humored smile on his lips as he replied, “Yeah it just smells like a middle school boys locker room.” He laid back against the bed as he stretched out, closing his eyes as he soaked in the atmosphere, today felt...different...he wasn’t sure how but, he liked it. 

You seemed happy today, or at least you looked happy. And you were smiling more at work. Namjoon really liked your smile, “Hey,” He hummed as he opened his eyes and glanced at your upright figure, “Why did you come tonight? I thought you didn’t like parties?” 

You gave a somewhat sheepish laugh as you shrugged, running a hand through your hair as you replied, “Ah well…” You seemed a little flustered as you glanced away from him- not wanting to admit that Jungkook had nearly cried from begging you to come because he really wanted you to at least try it just once, all in the name of getting yourself back out there, but the one leading motivate that he continuously brought up, was Namjoon, “Jungkook wanted someone to come with him. He gets worried about me occasionally.” You rolled your eyes briefly despite the small smile on your face, “Says he doesn’t want me to become a hermit.”

Namjoon’s expression softened a little, that was something else he never quite understood, were your friends just that caring…? It seemed a bit unnormal the way they always eyed you with concern despite you brushing them off, “It just shows he cares.” Namjoon offered a smile as you sighed, flopping down onto your back next to him as you glanced up at the ceiling. 

“I know,” You admitted as your smile slowly formed into a frown, your gaze hardened at the dirty ceiling as your brows pinched together, “I just…” You inhaled sharply, sounding somewhat frustrated as you sighed, “I just wish they’d treat me normal sometimes...you know? It’s nice knowing everyone supports me but…” You felt a bitter smile curl on your lips, “I can always see the pity, like I’m just a kicked puppy that needs a little love…They all mean well but…” 

“I can understand why you’d feel frustrated,” Namjoon spoke up, rolling over to face you, sincerity in his eyes as he spoke, “I wouldn’t want to be treated like that either. It’s hard being in a room full of people who all look at you like you’re broken when you aren’t.”

His words hit deeper then you wanted to admit, your throat suddenly feeling restricted as you glowered at the ceiling trying to blink back tears. Perhaps it was the realization that people do look at you like you're broken. Maybe you were, afterall, you weren’t the same anymore. You could barely hold a smile on your face anymore. 

You suffered long nights full of dreams of torment and tears in your waking hour to numbness and wondering why life was even worth living. You had debated on the fall from your window and you had even wondered about the knives in the kitchen drawers. You felt your lips twitch into a bitter smile as you laughed, feeling tears drip down as you replied, “I’d think the same if I were them. I don’t even blame them.” 

Namjoon sat up as he frowned, looking resentful at your words as you wiped your face, “Hey.” You sniffed a little as you sat up, wiping your tears on your sleeve, “You aren’t broken, people shouldn’t be so quick to judge.” 

“You’re just saying that because you're nice.” You scoffed as you glanced down at the bed, your eyes glaring despite the blur, you fought with yourself at night on why Namjoon was even friends with you, surely he just thought you needed help. Needed friends. Why did it hurt to think of it like that? It’s what you wanted, right? 

You squeaked in surprise at Namjoon’s large hands suddenly cupping your face, forcing you to look him in the eyes as you were taken back on how intense his stare was, anger evident on his face as his jaw clenched, “Don’t assume that. You aren’t broken and I don’t look at you like you need to be fixed okay?” His expression softened a little as he watched your eyes begin to blur again, your shoulders shaking as sniffled, trying your damnedest to not cry as you gritted your teeth. 

Defeatedly you closed your eyes as you let your tears fall, why couldn’t you stop crying? Why was everything so confusing and why did it all have to hurt? Namjoon let his thumb rub across your cheekbone, wiping away the tears that dripped down as you closed your eyes, “I don’t care what’s happened okay? I just want to help you be happy again.”

“I don’t deserve it,” You spat out as you choked on your tears, unable to even look at him, you felt so useless, worthless, all of the life left your body with Taehyung when he- your breath escaped you, catching yourself as you nearly choked on the influx of tears. It didn’t matter anymore, nothing mattered anymore. He was gone and he wasn’t coming back. 

Namjoon could feel his heart crumble with every tear that dropped down your face, his thumbs soothingly wiping every drop away, “Yes you do. Please, don’t say that about yourself.” Namjoon felt like a faucet and he couldn’t stop the overflow of emotions, unable to keep it to himself any longer when you were so obviously in pain. When you hated yourself for reasons unknown to him, “You will always be worth it to me, okay?” He pressed his forehead against yours, his smile pained as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut, “There will never be a day I don’t think that?” He said breathlessly, his eyes dulled and pained at your sobs, “Don’t cry love.” He spoke softly, closing his eyes, letting the warmth of your skin seep against his as he rubbed his thumbs over your cheeks. 

“I don’t know how. I-I’m sorry....” You mumbled as you sharply sniffled, trying to calm yourself down as your heart ached. You thought for sure you had gotten better, but it became apparent you were just trying to block Taehyung out, and you couldn’t do that. He didn’t deserve it. Taehyung absolutely did not deserve to be blocked out of your memory or forgotten. 

“Shhh.” Namjoon hummed soothingly, his nose rubbing against yours, his fingers tracing down your jawline, “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Your lips trembled at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin, you could feel the hesitation from him, just a ghost of brush from his lips as you sniffled before he fully pressed his lips against yours. 

The kiss was wet, not in a very pleasant way, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks as his lips began to tenderly stroke against yours, his hands so warm against your face as you sobbed against his mouth, parting your lips at the feeling of his soft lips that felt so right against yours. It was like intimacy and warmth you craved. 

The kiss which was gentle quickly turned more heated, your body immediately crawling closer to his as your lips parted for him, his tongue immediately pushing past to enter your mouth as dominance was immediately one, a soft moan escaped you as long fingers trailed down your face to your neck. Your body was lighting up at the memory of those long fingers wrapped around your throat, the heat of his body against yours. 

All the sleepless nights you spent together moaning in passion. Taehyung’s hands trailed down your waist, squeezing tight making you whimper as you crawled into his lap, seeking the comfort only he could bring as you let his tongue lap and force yours into submission in a sloppy wet kiss. 

The knock on the door immediately made you jolt, opening your eyes only to let out a yelp. This was not Taehyung- but Namjoon. You frantically fell out of his lap, all too aware of your shocked expression and tear stained face as you wiped your mouth...You just...kissed Namjoon...The twist of betrayal in your heart wouldn’t stop stabbing as the door opened. 

Namjoon’s lips had parted, looking somewhat frantic to apologize and explain himself when he saw how devastated your expression was, “Oh- uh sorry.” Seokjin looked somewhat sheepish to see the both of you, a girl peeping behind his shoulder looking somewhat embarrassed herself, “Were we um…?” 

“No!” You sharply replied, getting off the bed as you felt your hands violently tremble. You just...you just kissed...you imagined...you thought…“You didn’t.” You rushed past the both of them as you the music pounded into your head and it was like the lights became blurred but not from tears anymore. All of your senses were on overload as your mind sneered at you, you just kissed someone who wasn’t Taehyung, as if he didn’t exist, it didn’t matter whether or not you thought it was him. It wasn’t. It wasn’t Taehyung, how were you ever supposed to forgive yourself? 

“Y/n! Y/n!” 

You didn’t stop until you were suddenly yanked back, “Y/n please,” Namjoon looked at you pleading, “I’m sorry, I overstepped my boundaries and I shouldn’t-” 

“I don’t like you Namjoon.” Your heart was frantically beating out of your chest as tears began to blur in your eyes, shaking your head as you pulled from his grip, “This- it wouldn’t work. Don’t waste your time.” Your voice was ice cold despite the tears dripping down your face as you glared at him, the hurt in his eyes was unmistakable as you turned around. 

Your body in shock as you closed your eyes, letting the tears slide down your cheeks. Walking downstairs you bumped into the person you were just looking for. Jungkook had first smiled upon seeing you before his expression immediately became worried, “What happened?” He was by your side instantly. 

Sobbing you covered your ears, the music and lights too much as guilt ate you alive, “I wanna go home Jungkook.” You felt like a child as you wrapped your arms around yourself, Jungkook immediately wrapping an arm around you as he guided you out of the house. 

How could you ever function after this…? 

“Y/n please, we’re worried.” Jimin kneeled down in front of you as your body trembled, burying further into your blanket curled up on the couch as you shook your head. You couldn’t even speak about what happened without feeling the violent urge to throw up. 

How could you ever do that to Taehyung? What would he think? Closing your eyes you sobbed once more as you heard Jimin demand, “What happened? What do you mean she came downstairs crying?” 

Jungkook sat beside you and had refused to leave your house despite it being three in the morning, concern washed on his expression as he replied, “I don’t know! She and Namjoon went upstairs for a while and then she came back down crying and asked to come home. She wouldn’t talk the whole way home.” 

Just the sound of his name sickened you, your fists curling against the blanket. You couldn’t be angry at him, after all, you had enjoyed it. You craved it. You were the one who was disgusting. Jimin rested his hands on the couch as he looked at you with a frown, “Y/n…” His heart broke at the sight of your crumpled figure buried in blankets, “Did he take advantage of you? What happened?” 

“I imagined him…” You sobbed as you whispered, lips trembling at just the mental imagine in your head, looking up at them with tears welling as you confessed, “I kissed him and all I could see was Taehyung.” You buried back into the blankets as you sobbed, tears staining the warm cotton as you closed your eyes, “I miss him so fucking much. It hurts, it hurts to even breathe knowing he's dead. What’s the point in even being alive if he isn’t here with me? I’d do anything to be with him again. I can’t fucking do this anymore.” 

You curled up as you squeezed your eyes shut, confessing every single thought that had built in your head, “I can’t…!” You couldn’t even register who was hugging you or who was saying what anymore, it was all a blur.

You weren’t even sure when you fell asleep. 

Waking up your head was groggy and you groaned, when did you get in bed and... why was Jungkook here? Jungkook was curled up next to you, his breath in a soft rhythm as you sat up, rubbing your head as you began to recall the night before, your suddenly squeezing as you swallowed back the shame and guilt. 

Stupid

Stupid 

Stupid. 

You should’ve kept it to yourself- you were never supposed to say anything you said last night…”Hey…” You coiled away from Jungkook’s soft voice, deeper than normal as he had obviously just woke up, if he didn’t think you were a kicked puppy before he definitely does now, “Hey…:” His voice was considerably softer as he sat up, a frown on his lips as he spoke, “You don’t need to feel ashamed for last night Noona...it’s good to get that stuff out…” 

Pressing your hands against your face you felt absolutely mortified as you remembered in vivid detail what happened at the party, “I kissed Namjoon,” You whispered under your breath, “And all I could see was him.” You swallowed the thick knot that squeezed in your throat as you felt Jungkook comfortingly press his hand on your shoulder. 

“It’s a process Noona,” Jungkook felt his lips quiver a little, not liking seeing you in such despair, you often hid it well but overtones always lingered, it hurt seeing you like this, “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” A soft knock on the door sounded through the room before it opened, Jimin poking his head in as his eyes turned sad at the way your body curled into itself. 

“How are you feeling?” Jimin sat on the edge of the bed as you snorted. 

“Like crap.” 

You could hear them both chuckle and you even felt your lips tug into a smile briefly before they quivered back into a frown, “God, I’m sorry guys…” You felt awful, you ruined both of their nights and probably their sleep, just to listen to you cry. 

They both were immediately objecting as you inhaled slowly, sinking into yourself as Jimin sighed as well, his gaze soft as he pressed his lips together, silence taking over the room before he slowly spoke, “Y/n...I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but...I think maybe, we should get you help…” You parted your lips, wanting to object but he continued, “You need help. Y/n,” His lips quivered a little, “I lost my best friend,” His eyes looked glossy as he forced a smile, “I can’t lose you too. Please, at least for a week, for me.” 

You lowered your gaze as you rubbed your face, maybe it would be for the best, you were beginning to see things that weren’t there, Taehyung was everywhere you looked, you could never escape the ghost of him no matter how hard you tried, “I…” You glanced at the sheets in resignation as you sighed, “Okay…” You mumbled, “I’ll give it a try.” 

Only because you didn’t want them to worry over you. 

----

Namjoon couldn’t say for sure what had happened, but he knew, deep down, he had fucked up. Running a hand through his hair he groaned as he paused at the shop in front of him. He knew seeing you now was a bad idea, you’d probably go to the back room and you wouldn’t want to talk to him. 

But he just…! He just needed to know why. Why couldn’t he be with you? He never meant to fall in love with you, but he loved your smile you rarely showed, or the way you’d give witty comments to every subject he’d try to be serious about. And for once, he loved being not serious. With you. Did he go too fast? Should he have waited? 

Namjoon almost didn’t want to go inside, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to handle the rejection, sometimes, it doesn’t matter how long you wait, some people are just not interested. But he was so sure you were, your eyes always seemed so bright and lit up when you laughed together, or how it would soften and you’d listen intently to his worries. He just needed to know…! 

Determined he opened the door to the shop where his lips immediately quirked into a frown. Jungkook had just finished serving a customer when their eyes met, a frown also on his lips as he looked away, “Jungkook…! Where is she?” Namjoon must have looked pathetic, his eyes pleading as he hurried to the counter where Jungkook shied away from him, straightening out some of the coffee canisters as he turned his back to Namjoon, “Hyung….I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He mumbled, somewhat meekly as he figidied. 

Namjoon pressed his hands against the counter as his gaze hardened, “Is she not here?” Of course you weren’t here, he should’ve known you’d take the day off to avoid him. If the need to speak to you wasn’t imperative before it certainly was now, “Jungkook please, I just need to know.” 

Jungkook pressed his lips together as he turned around, frowning as his big doe eyes searched his elder, unsure if you’d appreciate him spilling what had been going on. And truthfully it wasn’t his place either, Jungkook sighed as he spoke reluctantly, “It’s not you Hyung, it’s her...She knows that better than anyone. I won’t say anything because It’s not my story to tell...I’ll talk to her about it and if she says it’s okay I’ll let you know where she is. Okay?” 

Namjoon could feel his lips tremble a little before lowering his head in defeat, Jungkook’s expression was serious and if this was the best he could get then he’d just have to take it, Namjoon felt pathetic and desperate but he just needed to see you. To at least know you were okay. Your expression wasn’t just shocked at the party...you looked devastated. He didn’t understand and he wanted to, he needed to so badly. 

“Thanks Jungkook.” He muttered with a sigh as he rubbed the back of his head, his phone vibrated in his pocket for the fifth time, Seokjin had been blowing up his phone the whole morning, apologies and questions had been spammed and he supposed, he’d stop by the frat house and sulk. 

Jungkook offered an apologetic smile as Namjoon sighed, trudging out the door in defeat as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, the frat house was a short walk from the cafe and he had spent the majority of the time trying to gather his thoughts into something comprehensible for his friend to dissect. 

“You could’ve at least sent me a text!” Seokjin scolded as he opened his bedroom door letting Namjoon walk in, the bitter reminder of the same bed he had sat on not too long ago and let his emotions get the better of him. He couldn’t help himself though, he couldn’t stand watching you cry much less sob, and he had seen you in that state so many times. He just wanted to help, he wanted to make you feel better. 

Seokjin frowned as he paused from his scolding at the way Namjoon dejected collapsed on his bed, walking over he searched the man’s empty expression as he sighed, “What did you do?” 

“I ruined everything.” Namjoon sulked as he pressed his hands to his face, “I kissed her and she looked at me like I was a ghost. I asked Jungkook where she was but he won’t say anything.” 

Seokjin hummed as he sat on the edge of the bed next to his friend, “Maybe she just needs time to sort out her feelings. I talked about it before but it’s pretty apparent now that she obviously has a lot going on, Namjoon.” 

Namjoon knew that had to be the case, otherwise you’d already be apologizing when you didn’t even need too, right? You’d be trying to fix whatever that was last night, and hey, he’d rather have you as a friend then not at all. He loved talking to you, hearing your thoughts on life and the way you perceived the world. 

When you first began talking, your world seemed dim, as if you filtered the world in only shades of grey. But the more you spoke and the longer things went on, the more Namjoon noticed you opened up, color began to flood into your world again in soft tones and smiles. He adored it. 

“I just wish she’d let me help her.” Namjoon mumbled as he rubbed his eyes, “I hate seeing her cry, and I hate seeing her push me away, and it would be one thing if she didn’t like me, but you want to know the worst part Seokjin?” 

Hurt quivered in his veins as he sat up, glaring down at the ground as he felt a bitter smile twist on his lips, “I can tell she does, why else would she want to talk to me after everything that’s happened? So why won’t she let herself just…! It’s so frustarting!” 

Seokjin sighed, unable to help but feel a little bad for him, it was obvious somewhere down the line friendship and something more had become blurred, “I know man,” Seokjin consoled, “Just give it time. She’ll come around when she’s ready.

Three weeks. 

That’s how long Namjoon had spent sulking, lectures he once listened to eagerly had become background noise, flavors seemed less vibrant and nothing was the same without you. By the sixteenth day mark he had almost given up, feeling despondent, he had stopped by the shop a few times only for Jungkook to shake his head in apology. 

That was until today. Namjoon’s eyebrows shot up and his heartbeat felt like it was going to burst out of his chest, “Ah...well, we can go after I get off shift, if that’s okay?” Jungkook offered a small smile, happy to see his Hyung looking a little more upbeat then he had before. It was truly a sad sight not only seeing Namjoon but you look like kicked puppies the past few weeks. 

“Yes! Yeah that’ll work…! Jungkook, thank you so much, you- you have no idea how much this means to me…!” Namjoon fumbled over his words, his smile bright and lit up, excited to see you again even if it was to just apologize over and over again. 

Jungkook smiled a little as he shrugged, “I haven’t done anything, Noona is doing a lot better and she asked when I visited yesterday if you could come.”

Namjoon nodded taking in his information before pausing….visited? As in, at her house? He didn’t quite understand but regardless he was glad to hear you didn’t hate him, or at the very least you still wanted to talk to him. Namjoon would take almost anything you handed him now. Some may find it sad but he was desperate, for closure at least.

Sitting down on your bed you hummed, letting your fingers drag against the pages of the book you had been reading during quiet time for the past two weeks, Jimin and Jungkook visited you nearly every day for visitor hour but when you got the chance you’d try to read, like now. 

Perhaps you were just trying to calm your nerves, you had asked Jungkook yesterday if you could see Namjoon...the past month had been...long...filled with tears and exhausting nights. You hated group therapy and the nurses constantly battled you when it came to any sort of physical activities. But as the weeks went on you reluctantly began to open up more, particularly during your singular therapy sessions, which helped the most. 

‘Tell me Y/n, you said earlier that Taehyung was the most and loving man you ever met,’ you nodded at her words as she spoke, ‘And you have also said that you can’t allow yourself to fall in love because you’d of your fear of forgetting him.’

You looked at your lap as you didn’t comment, unable too, it felt good...to be able to just spill everything to someone who was listening objectively, your therapist wasn’t looking at you like a kicked puppy, her eyes weren’t dripping with pity, she simply was listening, ‘Yeah…’ you mumbled as you folded your hands together. 

“Have you ever considered that, if Taehyung is truly as lovely as you describe him to be, that he’d genuinely want you to move on? That he would always want you to be happy? If he’s as kind as you say. Acceptance is never easy Y/n, especially when you’re grieving the love of your life.” 

You hung your head as you felt your eyes water, a sniffle escaping you as she pushes the tissue box over to you as she gave a gentle smile, “But Taehyung would want you to be happy. I want us to target why you feel this guilt every time you try to open up to Namjoon,” She clicked her pen, “You’ve said in the past, you feel guilty because you feel as though Taehyung is judging you, but in reality Y/n, the only person who is judging you, is yourself. The only person who is stopping you from receiving this love, is you.” 

Grabbing a tissue you wiped your eyes as you sniffled while shaking your head, unable to speak no matter how much you wanted too as she continued, “These things you’re talking about are symptoms of depression, the guilt you feel is your superego saying you don’t deserve to be loved because you would be betraying someone who is no longer here. This doesn’t make your feelings invalid, but,” She clacked her tongue, “I’d like us to work together to rein in the superego and get back to the root of your consciousness. On your own time, I’d like you to have Namjoon pay a visit and talk with him, but in the moments of doubt, when you’re mind is telling you to pull away or that you don’t deserve something, I want you to consciously and actively tell yourself that it’s okay to love again. It’s okay to move on, it’s okay to let someone else in’

‘What if I’m not ready to face him?” You sniffled, somewhat horrified at the idea of seeing Namjoon again, how could you ever face him after something so embarrassing? 

‘You’ll never fully be ready to face someone Y/n,” She replied, ‘But the first step to letting go, in your case, is telling yourself, that it’s okay to be loved again. It’s okay that you’re exploring love again. The only way to accept your feelings and your loss is by moving on. Let yourself open up to Namjoon, tell him the reason your like this and it will make you feel a lot better.’

You weren’t sure if you were ready to see Namjoon but...you felt guilty, guilty for lashing out at him when he didn’t deserve anything and...your fist curled as you inhaled sharply ‘it’s okay to love again’ that’s what your therapist told you and told you to repeat to yourself anytime you were flooded with any feelings of guilt. 

Leaning against the wall your fingers dragged along the line of words, trying to read but your mind wouldn’t focus. Jungkook would be here soon with Namjoon, your roommate, a young eighteen year old girl was out in the dining area with her boyfriend right now. She had been emitted by her parents due to her depression but she told you the only time she felt excitement was at six o’clock every day, knowing he’d be here. 

Love really could heal, couldn’t it? 

The knock on your door made you jump, the nurse Kang Min Soo opened the door, she was the one who shuffled you from activity to activity during the day, offering a small smile she said, “You have visitors Y/n.” Straightened a little you nodded as she opened the door, your heart beating wildly in your chest as your eyes first met with Jungkook who offered a gentle smile, the taller figure of Namjoon behind him, eyes curiously searching his surroundings before meeting yours. 

Unable to hold his gaze you dropped it to your book, closing it as you set it on the bed, “Hey guys…” You mumbled, feeling a little shy as you shifted a little. 

“I know you wanted to talk,” Jungkook hummed, looking a little brighter today then he had within the past weeks, “So I’ll give you both a few minutes. Jimin should be here in about fifteen minutes.” You nodded, murmuring a thank you as he nodded, offering a smile to the both of you before he exited, shutting the door. 

It was quiet for a few seconds as you curled your knees into your chest, “...I’m really sorry…” You mumbled, feeling somewhat pathetic at being unable to even meet his gaze, Namjoon was still quiet and you weren’t sure if that was a good sign or not, “...I know I haven’t been the most transparent…” 

The bed shifted a little as you glanced up meekly to see Namjoon sit down a good distance from you, looking a little careful in his expression before he suddenly blurted out, “There’s another guy...isn’t there?” He looked sullied all of a sudden, casting his expression on the ground, “You don’t have to tell me. It’s obvious you’re in love with someone else.” 

“He’s dead.” 

Namjoon’s gaze up shot so fast he could hardly process your words, his lips parting as he searched your broken expression, eyes watering as you laughed a little, a smile tugging on your lips as you continued, “Namjoon- I loved him, so much.” You glanced up at him sincerely as the tears trickled down your cheeks, the smile looked so bright yet so sad as you sniffed, “He was my soulmate.” 

Closing your eyes you rubbed them as the wet substance stained your skin, “I’ll never forget that night. It was so stupid. Taehyung- he- he had worked overtime that day and got off shift late. Kept texting me saying how excited he was to get home and eat what I had made.” Your soft gaze became a fiery glare as you mumbled, “But by eleven he wasn’t home...and I waited...and waited...and then I began to get worried. It wasn’t until 11:30 that I got a call.” 

Squeezing your eyes shut you forced a laugh, “It was an accident, a stupid fucking accident. Neither made it. The car pulled out too soon without enough time for him to stop, the car ended up flipped and they rushed him to the hospital, by the time I got there they had to rush him into surgery.” 

It was quiet for a moment as tears streamed down your face, covering your sob with your mouth as you shook your head, “Three hours and I never even got to say goodbye. Jimin was against the wall in tears and I don’t even remember what the doctor told me. Just saw a glance of his body in the hospital bed before the door shut…. Sometimes I still wonder, if I had just told him to not worry about the extra hours, if he’d still be here. He would’ve listened, he’d do anything to make me happy…” Pressing your hands against your eyes you bit your lip to keep down the sob as you muttered, “But it doesn’t matter now, he’s gone…” Wiping your tears away you took a shaky breath, “I’ve been in denial, not wanting to accept reality for what it is. That he’s gone...that he’s...dead...that he isn’t coming back. When I kissed you,” You felt new tears already welling in your eyes as you lowered your head in shame, “You made me feel better, and I loved that feeling so much. But all I could imagine was him. It’s not your fault...you don’t deserve to be dragged along because of me.” 

“Hey…” You covered your face as you felt arms wrap around you pulling you into a hug, you couldn’t help but crave the warmth of Namjoon, his steady heartbeat of still being alive, did it make you a sinner to crave his touch? “I...I’m so sorry Y/n, I had no idea...that was what you were going through.” He squeezed his arms around you as you curled against him, too weak to try and fight what you wanted so badly, “But I’m not going to leave you just because of this.”

Covering your eyes you tried to stifle your sob, guilt eating away at you at the idea of leading Namjoon on, he deserved to be loved by someone who could give him their all. 

You couldn’t. 

“Don’t cry,” Namjoon’s lips coiled endearingly, those dimples poking out as he tenderly stroked a hand through your hair soothingly, “We’ll get through this, and we can go as slow as you want. But I’m not going to leave you. Not now, not ever. Okay?” 

He leaned down, pressing a kiss against your forehead as you closed your eyes, tears trickling down your face as you tried your best to push the toxic thoughts that invaded your mind away. Taehyung would want this, wouldn’t he? Right? Remembering what your therapist said you repeated the words mentally, it was okay to be loved again. It was okay to move on.

“Are you sure you really wanna try this?” You sniffed, rubbing the tears from your eyes as you looked up at him, lips quivering as you tried to smile, your mouth faltering as you choked out, “I’m a girl with a whole lot of baggage Namjoon.” 

Namjoon let his hands cup your cheeks, his thumbs pushing away the tears as he gave you a soft reassuring smile, “We’ll get past this, okay? You’ll always be worth the wait.” He closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours. You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, closing your eyes as you felt the small smile tug on your lips. 

Maybe...maybe you could get past this.

You had spent another two weeks at the mental institute before you had felt good enough to sign yourself out and try to pick up your life where you left off, the past month had been...interesting to say the least. Namjoon, much like Jungkook and Jimin, visited you every day. 

Some days were good...others were not so much...But if you learned anything in therapy was to take things a step at a time. Your therapist thought it was wonderful that you had developed feelings for Namjoon, even if it didn’t feel that way. But she had encouraged you saying that it was a sign your heart was ready to move on and heal. 

“I’m so glad you’re back Noona!”

Right now however, you were trying to push Jungkook’s large figure away from you, damn why does this kid have to be so strong? Jungkook was practically like a little boy, running around in excitement when he saw you were put back on your work schedule and has since hugged you for three minutes straight when you walked in, “Jungkook we saw each other Friday.” You complained. 

“Yeah but…! You were in ugly scrubs yesterday and your hair was really greasy,” Jungkook gave you a sheepish grin as you glared at him before pushing him away as he whined, “Besides! It’s your first day back at work!” He clapped his hands, “And you look a lot better! Not as tired anymore, did you sleep well?” 

You sighed as you finished tying your apron, unable to stop the small smile tugging on your lips, Jungkook used to be a lot more reserved in what questions he asked, but having since visited you every day it seems those barriers have long past melted, “Yes, I’ve been sleeping a lot better, but it’s probably because of the medicine I’ve been prescribed to help.” Your smile felt a little weak, but regardless, at least you were sleeping. 

And truthfully, you did feel somewhat, renewed. Like you were no longer strapped to a heavy weight and sinking to the bottom of the ocean. You weren’t sure how to describe it, but you felt lighter these days. Of course you wouldn’t deny how much your being still ached for the man you once loved. You still saw Taehyung in the colors that painted the walls, in the sea you always drove past on your way to work.

But everything seemed so far away now, as if the life you had with Taehyung was just a fuzzy dream. Sometimes late at night you wondered if it was real at all. Yesterday had been painful no doubt, when you arrived home the first thing you did was throw away all of Taehyung’s old clothes you had been keeping. Even his old favorite shirt you always wore to bed. Just the memory almost made your eyes well with tears but you contained yourself. 

Clothes were just clothes, and they wouldn’t make Taehyung come back, would they? 

“Well at least the medicine is helping Noona, sleep is sleep you can’t be picky.” Jungkook was buzzing in happiness before his eyes darted to the girl who was standing at the cash register ready to order, flitting over he began to take her order as you peered from behind. Snorting at the way she flirtatiously smiled and Jungkook fumbled, ears going red as he looked away and rang up her order.

You couldn’t help but smile as you began working on her flat white, “She likes you.” You stated as Jungkook leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as you began to laugh, watching the way his cheeks lit up like little tomatoes. 

“So!? I’m not interested in her.” He mumbled defensively as you clacked your tongue, shaking your head as you set her coffee down at the end of the counter. Of course cupid only liked playing in your love life. As if the universe heard your thoughts the doorbell chimed as your gaze shot up. Two all too familiar figures walked in, well the other bounced in excitement, “Hey guys! It’s good to see you back Y/n! How have you been?” Hoseok practically flew to the counter in excitement. Given his words you doubt he knew what you had been up too but you appreciated the sentiment regardless, offering a small smile as you shrugged, “Just needed a break to clear my head. I’m doing good. Word is you finally bagged someone.” 

Hoseok’s lips parted before he prominently closed them, his cheeks looking red before the door to the back suddenly opened, Yoongi looking around before Hoseok flailed a little, “What!? W-who told you that…?” You looked between them as you raised your brows, unable to keep the smile off your face. 

“Awh, gay is okay guys. You don’t have to be shy.” You could hear Jungkook trying to cover his snort as he turned away to grab the convenient tray of pastries from Yoongi who suddenly looked perturbed and embarrassed, his ears were red as he mumbled something before quickly pushing back into the back room. Hoseok puckering his lips before he caved, a bright smile on his lips as he leaned over, “Hey…you mind if I go back there?” You snorted as you waved your hand. 

“Knock yourself out. Just don’t cum all over the stove.” “Y/n!” “Sorry!” 

You laughed as Hoseok sped around the counter and bolted into the backroom as you shook your head. At least some things changed for the better over the month you had been gone. Shaking your head you hummed, “Someone looks like they’re in a good mood.” His words made your lips tug into a smile as you turned to face Namjoon who had been passively watching the whole situation unfold.

“You don’t know how long I’ve watched them pine for one another,” You replied, looking down as you wiped down the counter to try and keep your gaze from meeting his, it was weird, this warm burning sensation that tickled your insides, it almost felt like butterflies, “It’s nice to see them finally admit it. So are you just here to watch the gays or are you gonna order something?” You looked up, a weird half smile quirked on your lips and you probably looked stupid. 

Namjoon leaned down against the counter as he shrugged, a smile on his lips and those pretty dimples on display, “What should I get?” 

These feelings, constantly repeating to yourself that they were okay, it was all so new. It was hard not to get flustered at his innocent words as you turned to look at the menu before shrugging, “Well you like tea, what about Tropic Blossom? It’s main notes are orange blossom and hibiscus so it’s naturally sweet unless you want stevia in it?” You turned back to face him only to awkwardly look away, feeling your face begin to burn at the way he was looking at you. 

It wasn’t provocative or anything sensual, but his eyes were lit up in a warm glow and his lips were constantly curved upwards in a smile, “Sure, with a chocolate scone too! Hey do you think you could convince Yoongi to make blueberry scones?” 

You rang up Namjoon as you snorted, curving a brow with an amused look before replying, “You could’ve got one back in spring if you had just come with Hoseok earlier. He doesn’t take requests though so no.” 

“Not even for me? Come on, you could convince him.” Namjoon leaned in a little, his lips quirking into a smirk as he hummed, “Just once.” You turned away from him as you tried to ignore the way your face burned. Jungkook had a shit eating grin on his face as he minded his own business, or at least he pretended to as he began making the Tropic Blossom. 

“Just once Noona?” He couldn’t help himself as he gave you patronizing puppy eyes as you glared at him before he snickered, you shoved his shoulder though he hardly budged as you huffed. 

“I will, in the spring.” You clacked your tongue as you tried to control the smile that tugged on your lips as you leaned down as you pulled out the scone, placing it on the plate as you set up the napkin, “Until then you’re just gonna have to live with chocolate.” You stood up, looking up at his figure as you felt a smile tug on your lips once more as you handed him his plate.

“Can I take you somewhere tonight?” 

Your eyebrows shot up at his abrupt words, Jungkook set his tea down as he immediately spoke for you, “She’d love to- Ow!” You jammed your elbow into his rib as he squeaked, suddenly looking at you with sullied eyes like a kicked puppy as he trailed back to the register where a small line had formed.

Take you somewhere…? Like a date…? You weren’t sure if that’s what he meant but...you felt a little at war with yourself, you knew you should be excited but, “Only if you want to,” Namjoon could immediately sense the shift in your demeanor, offering a small smile, “Remember what I said? We can take this at your pace.” 

Well...he was right, you could always head home early if things took an odd turn or...the guilt had faded but you couldn’t help but feel like you were doing something wrong, mustering a smile you nodded, “It’s fine! I get off work at seven though…” 

“Perfect! It’s nothing special,” Namjoon’s smile brightened as he held his cup up, “I’ll see you after work then…” He tipped his drink to you as he gave it a sip, the doors to the backroom suddenly swinging up as you whirled around. 

“What did I say Hoseok?” You couldn’t help the amusement you felt at the sight of Hoseok’s ruffled hair and the suspicious bruises on his neck that were absolutely hickies, he sent you a semi embarrassed and unappreciative look as he replied, “Just get my sugar glaze pastry…”

You couldn’t stop the shit eating grin on your face as you and Jungkook exchanged looks before ringing him up, “And a cumin shot to go?” His glare was worth the joke. 

The rest of the day had come and gone, some hours slow and others fast, Jungkook and you would often go bug Yoongi when things were slow- well it was mainly Jungkook, but you were glad to be back. Things almost seemed...normal? 

Was this what life was really like before....you felt a small lump in your throat form. Before Taehyung? The ache in your heart was still there, but it was no longer the force that would always cause you to topple. Maybe this was the worst part of it all. 

The fact that the once beautiful life you had with Taehyung was over now. You felt a smile tug on your lips and your eyes gloss a little, but for the first time, it wasn’t out of sadness. But happiness, that at the very least, you had Taehyung in your life for as long as you did. Some things just weren’t meant to be. In this lifetime at least. 

Taking a deep breath you pulled yourself from your thoughts as you finished cleaning the counters, Jungkook had already finished taking out all the old pastries and Yoongi had finished cleaning up the back, “You ready to go Noona?” Jungkook called out as he untied his apron. 

“Yeah, gimme a second.” You called back as you tossed your rag into the sink, walking over to the coat rack as you untied your own apron. You glanced out the shop door to see a familiar figure standing out front waiting as you looked back down, suddenly feeling semi embarrassed. 

Jungkook and Yoongi were exchanging glances and you could tell on both of their faces they thought this was both endearing and hilarious, all it took was one glare from you to keep them both from spouting any kind of bullshit. 

Wrapping your jacket around yourself you snuggled up against the warm fabric that fought against the cold air as you walked outside, offering a meek smile to Namjoon who’s eyes lit up at the sight of you, “Hey…” You murmured, trying to calm your heart rate that spiked rapidly for no reason. 

Keeping his hands inside his coat pocket Namjoon greeted you with a brighter smile, “Hey, are you ready to go?” You gave a small nod as you began walking beside him. The sun setting and the air was getting colder at night these days, soon autumn would be here and color would flourish in all the trees. 

Warily, you couldn’t help but feel a small part of yourself that was…looking forward to autumn. It was always a welcomed time of year for you, when cinnamon was strong in the air and you could bake anything with apples in it. Bundling up next to a small campfire and the only time you could wear flannel without feeling self conscious. 

“Where are we going?” You asked softly as you glanced up at Namjoon who peered down at you with a small playful smile, as if he wasn’t going to answer, but he thought it was cute you’d ask regardless. 

“Somewhere.” Namjoon’s smile became bigger as he watched the pout quirk on your lips as you hummed, looking back out at the darkening sky, “It’s nothing special, just something I like doing when I have the next day off.” You tilted your head in curiosity as to where he was taking you. 

You only felt more confused when you stood at the gates of the park, turning to look at Namjoon as you felt a smile curl on your lips, unsure of what to make of this, “Not even a hint?” 

“Well,” Namjoon drawled, pressing his lips together briefly in thought before smiling once more, “We’ll be sitting down. I can’t say anything without giving it away.” 

Sitting down? There was a playground here, would you be sitting on the swings? You hadn’t done that in a long time, but much to your surprise Namjoon walked right past only for your eyes to set on a blanket that looked to already be spread out and a...telescope? Namjoon sat down as he gestured at you with a laugh, “What’s with that expression?” 

“Nothing!” You hurriedly replied, sitting down on the other side of the blanket, “I just…” You looked around before looking up at the sky, lips parting a little only to notice the dark sky blanketed with bright stars, “Didn’t expect this…” You murmured as your eyes darted from star to star, it was a clear night, perfect for stargazing, how long had it been since you even looked up? 

Had you truly forgotten the stars existed before this moment? 

Namjoon’s expression was warm as he gestured you over, “They look even better up close, you can see Pisces from here.” Leaning down you peeped through the lense as Namjoon guided the telescope as you let out a little gasp, “Oh! I think I see it!” You zoomed the lense out a little bit as you pressed your lips together, “Wait, I don’t think that’s it.” 

You had never been good with astronomy but...something about Namjoon laughing softly as you straightened up, something about the way he passionately pointed to each constellation, the way the deep midnight sky melted between the flicks of white that all seemed so...alive…

You really liked this.

You must’ve spent the whole night, looking at the stars laying down, talking about whatever came to mind, you couldn’t take your eyes off the sky for hardly a second. It truly was beautiful. 

“Hey, Y/n.” You hummed as Namjoon spoke up softly, “Do mind, if I ask...about him…” You stiffened a little, your dreamy gaze snapping to Namjoon, more awake now then you had been all evening. 

As if noticing the semi spooked expression Namjoon quickly added, “Only if you’re up to it...I’m sure it isn’t easy to talk about it...But I just…” He seemed a little self conscious as his eyes flickered back to the sky, “I just wanted to know about him, what he was like, what did you do together.” 

You felt a weak smile tug on your lips before closing your eyes, the night sky was no longer in your vision, but it was the warmth of your old home, the apartment you shared with Taehyung, his face which you hadn’t seen in so long was so clear, “He was…” You trailed off for a second before you felt your eyes water as a smile tugged on your lips, “Childish,” You laughed, memories of his pouty expression whenever you reprimanded him, “Playful definitely…” You sniffed as you wiped your eyes, the way he’d smirk and grab you by the waist, murmuring less than appropriate things in your ear, “God he was…” Opening your eyes you laughed again while shaking your head, “Everything I could’ve ever wanted. He made me see colors that don’t exist, noise became music, clouds weren’t just particles anymore,” Tears trickled down your face as you smiled, looking up at the stars, “He told me they were god’s canvas that he painted on every day. Taehyung, he saw beauty in everything.”

You paused as your smile slowly faded, closing your eyes as the pain washed over you, the dull ache in your heart returned as you rubbed your eyes of the tears you had shed, “It’s just…” You felt pathetic, still crying, still missing what once was, “Hard to believe it’s all over, y’know?” 

You felt fingers tug at your hair before gently combing through as you covered your mouth, trying to stifle down the sobs that bubbled in your throat, “He sounds like a one of a kind.” Namjoon offered a small smile as you turned to face him, rubbing the warm tears from your face as you felt a smile tug on your lips. 

“He was terrible! He’d start singing trot off tune and he always made such a fucking mess in the kitchen without cleaning it up!” Memories flashed by in your mind, flour all over the floor and Taehyung's voice low and raspy as he’d cough while trying to sing, the large boxy smile he’d give when you’d wake up to breakfast already made, “And he always left his clothes all over the floor because he never did laundry because he knew i’d do it for him if he waited long enough.” 

“Oh? And how bad were the road trips?” Namjoon’s lips were tugged in a soft smile, laying on his side to look at you as his fingers tangled against your roots. 

“Don’t even get me started,” You both laughed as continued, “Jazz was always a must and it was so boring to listen to for five hours straight and he always bought too many snacks! We went camping one time and...god!” You let out a breathy laugh, “Never again, we forgot to bring bug repellent in the middle of the most humid time of the year and apparently there was like this- retreat? For nudists at the campgrounds at the time and they kept coming over asking if we wanted to take LSD with them and it ended up raining the whole time!” 

Namjoon was snorting out a laugh, humored as he asked, “What did you guys do? I don’t think I can imagine my camping neighbors as nudists.” 

“We had rented out this shitty old camper van so we could keep all of our supplies in the back but, after a long day of being miserable and arguing half the time we packed up and intended on leaving,” You closed your eyes as your fingers traced against the soft blanket, “But when we were driving back we ended up taking a wrong turn and found a cliff side camping spot that was just gorgeous. So we ended up clearing out the back of the van and setting up a ton of blankets and pillows and we enjoyed the view.” 

You could still feel the hard car floorboard against your body with just a few blankets for comfort, curled up against Taehyung with his arms wrapped around you looked out over the valley, that awful weekend ended up being one of your favorite memories, “We turned off our phones, worked through our problems, shared laughs and ate those stupid hostess powdered donuts, and he said it. That first I love you.” 

Tears dripped down your face as you forced yourself to pause, you hated doing this to Namjoon, who obviously held back saying those same words, why was he even doing this to himself? He couldn’t have actually wanted to hear about him. You could see the way his heart always crumbled with every tear you cried, “I miss him so much. I’m sorry.” You whispered in overwhelm, memories you had forgotten resurfacing and you pressed your hands into your face. 

“Shhh,” You were pulled against Namjoon, his arms comfortingly wrapped around you as he held you close, “It’s okay to miss him.” 

-----

“I’m gonna hurt the roots if I just rip it out!” 

You curved a brow as you snorted, Namjoon looked utterly distressed as he attempted to repot his newest set of flowers, mums in shades of deep burnt orange and burgundy, perfect for autumn, “The roots are overgrown!” You argued, “We’re gonna have to cut them down to put less stress on the plants for the love of god just listen to me!” 

You pushed the powdered donut into your mouth before sitting down with him on the wooden picnic table, “Who’s the expert here?” 

“You.” Namjoon unenthusiastically hmphed as he rolled his eyes, but curiously peered down at your hands that pushed down through the soil, carefully extracting the small square of mums as you swallowed the large clump of donut, “Alright we gotta clip these before you can repot them, it’ll promote more growth and they won’t die as quick.” 

“It just seems…” Namjoon watched warily as you clipped the roots with zero hesitation, “...Counter intuitive. Isn’t this like ripping out their lungs?” 

You snorted again, turning to look at him as you pouted animatedly, “Awh you think plants feel? I mean if you wanna get that graphic it’s more like...shaving their lungs…” You watched Namjoon’s nose crinkle in dismay as you laughed, “Seriously though, they won’t get as much nourishment from the soil if you just keep this big ass clump. Root pruning is kind of essential when you’re repotting store bought plants.” 

“Alright but if my flowers die-” 

“Which they won't.” You handed him the pruners as you gave him a cheeky smile, “Well go on, they won’t trim themselves.” You grabbed the bag of mini donuts before plopping another into your mouth, as you inhaled sharply. It was such a beautiful day out, the sun was shining and clouds big and fluffy. 

It was the perfect day to be outside, which is why you were sitting on the picnic table that was one of many sitting outside behind your apartment building. Things with Namjoon have been...good...they’ve been great. It’s been nearly a month of consistently seeing one another, hanging out. 

The pain is still there but, it’s gradually faded with time, you still go see your therapist once a week to talk over things in hopes of not pouring too much out onto Namjoon who was always so patient and kind. You frequented the park at night with him to stargaze and planting and taking care of any greenery had become a thing with you both.

You weren’t sure what it was but, being able to be open and honest about your past relationship with Taehyung, being able to talk about your adventures together, the things you loved and annoyed you about him. Somehow having Namjoon earnestly listen to it all brought you closer to him. You felt safe with him, like he’d wipe your every tear away. 

You really didn’t deserve him. 

Your fists curled in frustration having not caught the words in your mind. Your therapist had been really getting on you as of late to try and redirect your thoughts to more positive affirmations anytime you mentally said you didn’t deserve him. Like...you deserved to have his kindness in your life. 

You could even step into the art museum now without much fear, only because Namjoon loved art and he often contemplated his love of philosophy alongside it. You really were thankful for him. But you couldn’t help but notice something lingering…something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

“So I was thinking.” Namjoon hummed, his eyes purposely looking down at the soil that crumbled beneath his fingers as he pruned the roots carefully, “Why not attend that gala tonight? For Modernism?” 

You tilted your head as you shoved another donut in your mouth, “Gala?” Your voice was muffled as you chewed before swallowing, “I thought you said it was stupid because they should’ve chosen to represent Baroque?” He had done things like this in the past before, it would be one thing if you were an art person and he was doing it for you, but you weren’t. 

 Namjoon looked a little apprehensive as he shrugged, gaining your attention more as his eyes stayed on the mums, “Well...I know you both used to like doing...you know, things like that…” He mumbled, making your mouth fall open. Oh...oh no…! You were afraid of something like this happening. 

“Namjoon,” Your lips tugged into a pout, your voice gaining his attention as he peeked up a little, obviously embarrassed when he shouldn’t be, grabbing the plant from him tenderly you set it into the pot before grabbing his soil covered hands, his eyes anywhere but yours, “Those were things me and him liked to do Namjoon…” 

“I- I just…” Namjoon fumbled a little, “I know you miss doing those things so…” 

Your expression twisted sadly, had you said too much to him about Taehyung? You didn’t want Namjoon to feel insecure about your relationship...not that you were together but...things were obviously headed in that direction, weren’t they?

“I don’t miss doing those things Namjoon, I miss it because it was with him,” You watched the way he frowned, his shoulder’s slumping as he stared down at the table, “And you aren’t him. And I don’t want you to be him,” His gaze suddenly shot up to your expression that hardened, “Namjoon I don’t want to live in the past trying to make old memories new again when we already have something. I wanna create new memories that are just as happy,” You felt a little shy as you looked away, “With you, and with the things we like to do together. So don’t worry about it, let’s just stick with a plans to go to the park tonight, besides didn’t you say a meteor shower was happening,” 

You were casual in your words, trying to play off your heartfelt confession on not wanting him to compare himself to your old lover, that wasn’t the kind of relationship you wanted and it wouldn't be Namjoon if he did things the way Taehyung did. They were two very different men with similar hobbies but for vastly different reasons, but you’d always love them both. 

Wait…

“Draconids, but it’ll be a boring show. They say there’s only five meteors an hour” Namjoon smiled, his chin resting against his arm as he gave you a dopey smile making you laugh as you shook your head. His fingers playing with yours as you replied, “I’d rather be there then at a stuffy art gala.” 

“Noona! Hyung! Oh did we interrupt?” 

You clacked your tongue in annoyance as your hand, still intertwined with Namjoon’s dropped to table to see both Jungkook and Jimin waving, “No you didn’t, asshole!” You added as you yelled back, watching both Jimin and Jungkook belt out with laughter as a smile tugged on your lips. 

It was originally planned as just a lunch outside but you and Namjoon had made more plans on top of that. 

Jimin waved the bag of takeout he had gotten for everyone as they both sat down, grabbing the towel that was laid out Namjoon wiped his hands along yours as he groaned, “Ah I’m starving, why did it take you guys so long?” 

“No reason,” Jungkook hummed, sounding oddly...content…? Your furrowed your brows as you looked between them both, Jimin’s eyes immediately shooting down to the bag of food as he coughed loudly, “Here’s your kebabs you wanted.” 

You ignored whatever subtext was lingering in the air at the sight of you lamb kebabs, hands immediately sticking out with a smile, “Thank you!” When was the last time you had enjoyed food like this? 

You could feel the warm rays of sunshine on your face and the cool breeze that passed over your body occasionally, was this what it was like to feel again? It was hard to keep Namjoon’s bright gaze that looked more and more like love these days, the way he’d just stare at you with that small smile and those dimples of his. You supposed, these days, maybe you really could fall in love with someone else. 

And after all...that’s what Taehyung would want, wouldn’t it? Something continuously held you back though and...suddenly everything became so clear, you knew exactly what you needed to do. And you knew you didn’t need to do it alone. Watching Jungkook and Jimin bid their farewell after lunch your throat became dry as your heartbeat became faster. 

“Namjoon,” You asked before you convinced yourself maybe this wasn’t as good of an idea as you thought it was. 

He hummed, turning to face you, that bright smile on his lips again as he listened endearingly, somehow making it harder to speak and had the sun always been this hot? “...Would you mind going with me...to visit him?” 

Namjoon’s pupils widened a little and his lips parted as if not expecting those words, he sincerely took a moment to ponder them and you appreciated more then if had unwillingly said yes, after a moment he gave you another reassuring smile as he grabbed your hands, “Of course Y/n.” You felt relieved as you gave a small smile in return, you knew exactly what you needed to do. 

It wasn’t until the evening that you went to the flower shop, grabbing a small bouquet of tiger lilies before walking towards the cemetery, Namjoon doing a double take when you shyly grabbed his hand. Touches were innocent still, hand holding still new and it was admittedly welcomed. 

The sunset was vivid today and it seemed just like yesterday you had rejected Namjoon’s offer for lunch in turn to come here, had that really been three months ago? You looked up at his figure that was looking ahead as a smile tugged on your lips. 

The cemetery looked as it always did, serene, carefully walking in the passage ways and making sure to not step onto any graves you paused at the willow tree. Your heart still squeezed as you glanced down. 

Kim Taehyung 

1995 - 2018

‘For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream’

Sitting down you pulled out the rag you had packed, gently wiping off his gravestone as your eyes waters, a soft smile tugging on your lips as your fingers traced against the engraved name, “Oh there’s so many things I wish I could tell you Tae.” You murmured softly, closing your eyes as the tears slid down, the smile still on your face as you sat back, placing the flowers down as an arm comfortingly wrapped around you. 

Sniffing you wiped your eyes as you leaned against Namjoon, your head resting against his shoulder as you closed your eyes, “I’ve struggled for so long to let you go. To let myself be okay with letting you go.” You could imagine Taehyung’s face, his dark locks of hair covering his eyebrows and his soft smile, hands cupping your cheeks, “And I’ll always love you. But I know you wouldn’t want me to go on the way I had been…So I’ve come here to say goodbye I suppose.” 

There was an ache in your jaw and your heart throbbed with that familiar dull ache, Namjoon’s head laying on top of yours as he pressed a kiss against your hair, “You’ll always be with me, and I’ll always cherish the time I had with you. But it’s time that I let myself be happy again. I know you understand. So thank you for...everything. And leading me to the person I belong with now.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as the tears trickled down your cheeks, pressing into Namjoon’s shoulder, even despite your tears you felt, at peace? As if this was meant to be, accepting things for what they were, and that no, you weren’t completely over Taehyung, but this was a good start to letting him go fully. 

Namjoon wrapped his arms around you as you sniffled, scooting against him as you curled up against the warmth he radiated, “I promise I’ll take care of her,” He spoke softly, a gentle smile on his lips as he looked down at your curled up figure, knowing this couldn’t be easy for you to do, “I know we never met, but thank you for making her happy. And I’ll continue to do the same.” He pressed another kiss against your head as he rested his head a top of yours once more. 

Sniffles escaped you as the wind blew through the trees, a soft rustle being the only noise outside your tears as the willow tree swayed in contentment. And if you really wanted to reach, maybe this was Taehyung’s spirit giving his blessing.

For the first time, leaving the cemetery was like a breath of relief, it was as if you had learned to walk on your own for the first time in a very long time. The sun had already set and hand in hand with Namjoon you both walked to the park where you set out the blanket as the moon rose. 

“Thanks by the way,” You turned to face Namjoon in confusion as he offered a small shy smile, “For taking me to visit him today. I know it wasn’t easy to do.” Your heart felt like it was doing little backflips as you crawled out to snuggle up against him, for the first time, craving his touch against you. 

“Of course, but I’m ready to focus on us.” You still felt a little shy yourself but you wanted more than anything to get to know Namjoon, he knew everything there was to know about you by now in terms of your past relationship. There was an unquenchable inferno inside you that wanted to know everything you could about this man. 

Laying down curled up against him Namjoon let his fingers tenderly run against your hair as he whispered, “I’m okay with that.” Your heart for the first time felt content, warm and fuzzy, all the hurt and all the tears you had spent crying felt like just a distant memory in the arms of your lover now. 

Your eyes felt lost in the inky blue sky above the were speckles with stars that gleamed brightly, and there it was the first meteor that passed making you squeak in excitement, Namjoon smiled as he looked down at your expression that seemed so excited at the flashes of light that streaked across the sky. 

Glancing at the sky Namjoon was surprised at the next few meteors that passed, and a few more before they came in dozens and dozens and soon the whole sky was lit up in light and the stars the seemed so muted before looked like gems that danced across the sky, light blues mixed with deepers shades of indigo and the streaks of white painted across the sky as he whispered, “This only happens once every few hundred years, where hundreds appear in the sky.” 

Namjoon couldn’t look at the rare sight in the sky though, not when he could look at your eyes that reflected the whole sky in them, all the stars that surfed in your gaze and your lips open in awe at the sight and for the first time in his life, he understood what that saying meant. 

‘For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream’

Namjoon would never leave your side for a single second, he pledged to himself, you’d both get through this together and you’d build a strong relationship. And he’d cherish you just as much as Kim Taehyung did, he’d devote his whole life to you if needed.” 

“Namjoon,” Your eyes looked dreamy while you turned to face him, he seemed distant as he stared at you as you gave a bashful smile, for the first time able to say what you always felt, “I love you.” 

[nalgenewhore]

little hands

rowan x aelin + stella luna, modern au, fluff/domestic/babysitting, word count: 2049

Aelin checked the fridge again. She knew that she had bought Stella Luna’s favourite applesauce squeeze packets yesterday when she’d gone grocery shopping with Rowan, but she couldn’t be too sure. “Rowan?”

“Yes, my darling?” he called back from the living room.

“Did you get the painting book out? The one with the dragons and stuff, it’s Stella’s favourite,” she said, pulling open the bag of mini carrots and popping a couple into her mouth. Aelin bumped the door shut and wandered into the living room, fixing the fold of the throw over the back of their couch.

Her fiancé looked at her with an adoringly exasperated expression. “Yes, I did.” Rowan stretched his arm out to point at the corner where there was a children’s table. On it, he had organised various crafts and art supplies to keep their niece occupied during the day. “Right there, darling.”

Aelin flashed him a simpering grin and Rowan huffed a quiet laugh. He got up and crossed over to her, wrapping his arm around her back. She smiled wider, her eyes flicking over his face as he tangled his hand in her golden hair and dipped her, kissing her deeply.

She hummed into his mouth and strung her arms around his neck, bending her left arm to hook her hand around her elbow. Rowan held her a little bit closer, his lips fitting against hers. Aelin let out a little noise and he groaned, moving his hands to the backs of her thighs so that he could pick her up.

Just as he did, the buzzer sounded and a wee voice crackled through, “Hello-o-o, Ash! Hello-o-o Wo!”

They broke apart and laughed, Rowan’s forehead against Aelin’s. He let her down and she rushed over to the buzzer, one hand smoothing down the back of her hair. Aelin clicked the ‘talk’ button. “Hi, kiddo!”

“Me and Daddy are here and Mr. Ribbit,” Stella Luna chirped. “Let me in, let me in!”

Aelin laughed again and pressed the button again, “Alright, Stellie, go ahead.”

They heard the door opening and then Lorcan’s deep voice, “Thanks, G.”

Faintly, Stella cheered excitedly, “El-vator, Daddy!”

“Yeah, yeah, Tiny, I know,” he grumbled. “We’ll be up soon.”

The intercom fell silent and Aelin darted into the bathroom to sweep her hair up in a ponytail, checking to make sure that Rowan hadn’t ruined her nudey-pink lipstick. She walked back out to wait, excited to spend the day with Stella.

Elide was weeks away from giving birth to her second baby and their house was a bit… busy right now. As she got deep into her nesting period, it was easier if there wasn’t a wild toddler running amok. Aelin and Rowan were more than happy to watch Stella Luna for Elide and Lorcan.

Someone knocked on the door and Aelin opened it, smiling down at Stella. “Well, hello,” she said.

Stella giggled, dressed in her favourite black jeans, red knit sweater, and the leopard print coat Aelin had bought for her. “Hi, Ash,” she said, rushing forward to fling her arms around Aelin’s knees, her frog stuffie held tightly beneath her armpit. Aelin smiled and rested her hand on the top of the little girl’s head.

She looked at Lorcan, who was passing Stella’s bag to Rowan over Aelin’s head. “Hello, Salvaterre.”

“G,” he nodded at her, his eyes glittering with joy as they dropped down to his daughter. “How are ya?”

“Not bad, better now that my favourite little gremlin is here.”

Stella Luna squealed at the nickname, always delighted when she was called such. She pushed Aelin’s legs aside and ran to Rowan, always in constant motion. Aelin shook her head and laughed, smiling softly. “So,” she turned back to Lorcan, “how is our darling Elide?”

“As she so lovingly puts it, ‘too fucking pregnant’.”

Aelin laughed, leaning against the doorframe. “What are you two doing today?”

He tilted his head to the side and lifted his hand to ease some muscle in his neck. “I am restaining the crib and getting new bottles. Elide is picking out paint samples and crying over how cute baby pyjamas are.” A loving grin tugged across his face. “They are pretty cute.” Lorcan stretched his shoulders and cleared his throat, “So, uh, you’re all set, then?”

“Yes, sir,” Aelin said. She turned to see Stella, “Honey, you want to say bye to your pops? He’s leaving soon.”

Stella gasped and bade Rowan to pull her boots off faster. In a flash, she was up, running back to Lorcan, who lowered himself into a practiced crouch. The three-year old crashed into him, her voice muffled against his shoulder, “Bye-bye, Daddy. Have good day!”

He chuckled and hugged her back, kissing the side of her head, “You too, yeah? I love you, my darling moon.”

Aelin swallowed past the lump in her throat – it was a bit much, seeing how gentle Lorcan was with Stella Luna, how much he adored her.

“Love-a you too, Daddy,” Stella said as Lorcan stood up and she hopped back to Aelin’s side.

He winked at the child, “See ya. Be good.”

“But not too good!”

Lorcan laughed and walked backwards down the hall, “That’s right, Tiny.”

Stella Luna was grinning maniacally as she pushed the door shut and spun, looking around their apartment. Aelin reached down and helped her slip her coat off, hanging it on the coat rack. “What should we do now, kiddo? We can paint or draw, or read a book and play with Mr. Ribbit.”

The toddler frowned in concentration, shifting back and forth on her feet as she decided, “Hmm… painting time! But I, I wanna real paint, no book.” She reached up to Aelin, who took her wee hand. “Time to painting time.”

Aelin laughed merrily and followed Stella as she marched towards the craft corner. They passed Rowan and Stella Luna flung her other hand out, “Come-come, Wo! I’m gon’ paint a dragon, the big dragon.”

Rowan dutifully went with his very bossy niece and sat down cross-legged. Aelin took her seat on Stella’s other side and the little girl handed them both paper and paint. She passed Mr. Ribbit to Rowan to hold him and kept standing as Aelin squeezed out paint into the plastic child’s palette.

“So, lass,” Rowan said as he picked up a paintbrush and began dotting a wildflower landscape, “are you excited for your new sibling?”

“Um, I am et-cited,” Stella answered, looking down at her paper as she squiggled purple paint across it. “I get to be big sister, Wo.”

“Well, that’s cool,” he said, smiling at her. His green eyes flicked up to Aelin and softened. She smiled back at him, her heart fluttering slightly.

For the next hour or so, they painted with Stella. The toddler was very concentrated, using every colour that she could. For one piece of art, she used blue and yellow and Rowan helped her put glitter on the paper, so it would look like Aelin’s eyes.

“For you, Ash,” Stella insisted, shoving the painting into her aunt’s face. She crawled into Aelin’s lap and gently patted her cheek, near her eye. “See, like you.”

Aelin beamed and hugged Stella tightly, kissing her round cheeks. “I adore it, kiddo. How ‘bout we let Ro hang it up to dry and he can get lunch for us?”

“Yeah!” Stella cheered, thrusting the painting over to her uncle and shaking it for him to take it.

Rowan chuckled, shaking his head, “Very nice of you to offer my services, darling.” He stood and then bent, kissing Aelin’s cheek. As he straightened, he addressed Stella, “What would her highness like for lunch?”

“A squeezie, an’... grill-cheese,” Stella told him, picking Mr. Ribbit up, “p’ease.”

“Certainly, milady.”

Stella giggled and put her frog back down, reaching for the green paint. “I am gon’ do it with my hands,” she declared with glee. As she started to turn the paint tube upside down, Stella froze and gasped, hurriedly putting the tube down again.

Aelin watched in bewilderment as Stella picked Mr. Ribbit up and walked over to the couch, putting him down and patting his soft green head. She returned and explained, “Can’t get him dirty, Mama says Mr. Rib-bit no paint.”

“Ah,” Aelin said, nodding her head. “Very smart, little one.”

She helped Stella set up the paints she would need for finger-painting and moved some things off the table so that there wouldn’t be anything crowding the young artist.

Soon enough, Stella’s hands were covered in green paint and she started on a crude imitation of a frog. Aelin fetched a wet washcloth so that she could clean Stella Luna’s hands between colours. A fierce frown furrowed the child’s cute cute face as she painstakingly applied different shades of green to the body. “Is Mr. Ribbit,” she said, patting with her fingertip.

From the kitchen, Rowan called, “Lunch is ready.”

“Ooh!” Stella Luna gasped, quickly forgetting her masterpiece and trying to charge into the kitchen.

Quicker still, Aelin caught her and lifted her up, “Oh, I think we should wash our hands first, yes? Paint doesn’t taste good.”

Stella Luna shook her head, “No, it don’t.” Her words were wise and grave, like she spoke from experience. She wiggled and her aunt set her down, herding her towards the bathroom. Stella pattered off, her feet hitting the hardwood floor in an adorable pattern. “Come-come, Ash! Wash hands!”

Aelin laughed as she trailed after Stella into the washroom, missing the green handprints Stella had accidentally left on the white walls.

In the bathroom, Stella was reaching up on her toes to get the tap. Aelin did it for her and they washed their hands until the water ran clear.

“Lunch time!” Stella Luna shouted, charging back out to Rowan. She clambered up onto a barstool and tucked her legs beneath her.

Rowan passed her a plate of grilled cheese sandwich, cut into triangles, baby carrots, cucumbers, and a squeeze packet of applesauce on the side, “Here you go, lassie.”

Stella Luna giggled at the name and her uncle’s deep brogue. She ate a carrot first and swallowed before picking up a piece of grilled cheese with both hands.

Aelin and Rowan sat down too, eating the other grilled cheese that he had made for them.

The child chattered all through lunch, talking about how she would put her frog painting up in the baby’s room and that sometimes, if she was really quiet, when she touched Elide’s belly, the baby would kick.

Rowan stood up after he was done and put his plate in the dishwasher. He went to the bathroom and Aelin waited for the bathroom door to close with its regular click. When it didn’t, she got up and wandered to the hallway, leaning to the side to peek at her fiancé. “Ro? Are you alright?”

He was standing still, looking down at the wall. “Why are there little handprints on the wall?”

Aelin looked down and saw the green prints Stella had left. She laughed softly, smiling at the preciousness of it, and turned. “Stella?”

“Uh-huh?” She looked up and climbed down, padding over in curiosity.

“Why are there little handprints on the wall?”

Stella Luna shrugged, a cucumber slice half eaten in her hand. “Because my hands are lit-tle.”

Aelin snorted and laughed again, turning back to Rowan. “Because her hands are little.”

He looked at his niece and cracked a wide grin, “I guess that explains it, doesn’t it?”

She giggled once more and twirled, “Yup!”

Rowan chuckled and walked down the hall, scooping Stella up and kissing her cheek, “That’s a pretty good explanation, little one.”

Stella Luna nodded vehemently and kicked her legs out so he would let her down. She went back to her lunch and Aelin slid her arm around Rowan’s waist, squeezing his side. “It’s water-based, you know? It’ll come off with a cloth.”

“Yeah, I know.”

The event was forgotten until a few days later, Aelin was rushing out of the bathroom, late for work, and froze, seeing the picture frame that Rowan had hung over Stella’s trail of handprints.

Beneath it, he had printed out on a little slip of paper, Stella Luna Salvaterre Lochan, 2021.

<3<3<3

an: i saw this chat post somewhere and i thought it was the cutest thing

@mythicaitt @eyllweambassador @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @ladyverena @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @silversprings98 @amren-courtofdreams @jadeaffliction @superspiritfestival @sanakapoor @ireallyshouldsleeprn @spyofthenightcourt @thegoddessofyou @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @claralady @neonhellas @darlinminds @readingismyonlyhobby @gracie-rosee @myshadowsingeraz @firestarsandseneschals @elriel4life @always-in-a-daydream @jlinez @hellasblessed @mariamuses @darklesmylove @adelzd-bookblr @rowaelinismyotp @sassyhobbits @swankii-art-teacher @januarystears @flamingveritas

[barnesand]

the scent of old stories [ ii ]

Summary: You haven’t found your thing here in Brooklyn, but you hope that you’ve found it within the bookstore that happens to be on your work commute. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader AU: *chants* bookshop au, bookshop au, bookshop au. Warnings: No warnings for now! author’s note: we have one cameo for this story so far, but hey, we’re back in the bookstore and the pining shall commence.

chapter one can be found here: x

You thought that your tedious workload would drown out the reminiscing thoughts of yesterday, but you were wrong. Despite having your hands full with at least ten toddlers that were all vying for your attention (Jess needed you to look at her blue clay creation, despite you having no actual clue what it was supposed to be), you mind still found its way back the Second Hand. Working at a day care center is usually all-consuming—you couldn’t think of the last time you found yourself blinking away thoughts, not when there were so many things happening all at once.

Not that the children you cared for were the embodiment of chaos. But you had to pay attention to them—they were toddlers.

Your encounter with Bucky was three days ago. And in those three days, your mind still plagued you with a looping thought: why haven’t you gone back? Your mind was very correct in questioning your avoidance of the store. There was no point to it—clearly, Bucky was flirting with you. You might have lost your ability to return flirtatious remarks, because of reasons, but there was no denying that fact. Bucky wanted you to come back, to get that list of his favorite haunts. And, maybe, he would tag along on a few of those locations.

Ninety percent of your brain was scolding you about it, while the remaining ten percent remained on the fence about it. You know—good old denial: because what if he wasn’t?

You wouldn’t call yourself outright pathetic for believing what the ten percent had to say, but you were disappointed in yourself. Disappointed that you couldn’t give in and just do it—you did, after all, make a deal to return. Bucky had given you a free book, and that free book had come with a condition, and you had to honor it. What kind of person would you be—what kind of bibliophile would you be—if you didn’t honor it? But because you still quaked at the idea of returning, and because you feared that you would become a sputtering mess once again, you wouldn’t.

You’d considered gaining an outside perspective—but you didn’t really know your coworkers well enough. You spoke to them about several things, of course, but you hadn’t delved into the personal topics yet. You also humored the idea of calling your mother—but you really didn’t need to go down that wormhole of call. She’d find your indecisive thoughts a hint that you secretly wanted to come back home and you didn’t want to have an argument over that again.

By now, your ten toddlers have been corralled by another associate into quiet time—and for a brief second you considered asking your kids if you should go back to the pretty man at the bookstore. No—no, that’s too complicated of a story to tell and their track record with opinions wasn’t doing so well for you.

Your quiet dilemma would remain that—a quiet one.

In the last hours of your shift, you tried to occupy your mind as much as possible. The toddlers kept in your care must have noticed the keen focus you developed, because they seemed more chaotic than usual. By the end of it, they were nearly tired out as their parents picked them up. Once the last child was picked up, you quickly cleaned up the mess they’d made. Indeed, you did manage to lose track of those plaguing thoughts, but the moment you were alone they returned as loud as ever. You pressed your head to the too-small crafting table and let out a meager sigh.

“Do I go?” You said out loud, tapping your forehead once more—you wanted to knock the solution out of your head, but it wasn’t really working.

“Go where?”

You didn’t move from your position entirely, instead only shifting your head to the side to find one of your coworkers in the doorway to the playroom. Joaquin Torres was one of the coworkers you’d considered telling about your current situations. He was nice—well, nearly everyone who worked with you seemed nice, but he felt genuinely nice. He didn’t enter the room entirely, instead leaning the top half of his body inward. Almost as if he didn’t want to impose on your moment. You lifted your head, pulling yourself up from your crouching position to stand.

“Um,” you started. You straightened your clothes, re-tucking your shirt into your slacks. “Well—there’s this bookstore on the way home, and I don’t know if I should go back.”

“You like books, don’t you? Seems like an easy yes.” He joked, bringing himself into the room.

Oh, you wished it were an easy decision for you. The laugh that left you was short, slightly strained. Your hands settled on your hips.

“One would think that.” You nibbled at the inside of your cheek. “But the owner is really cute. And I think he’s expressed interest in me. I—yeah, I’m usually not like this around men but he’s really cute.”

He nodded. You couldn’t believe it was that easy to talk to him about it—geez, you should have mentioned it to him days ago. Even if he wasn’t responding right away, but you could see the contemplation in the furrow of his brow and that was enough. If Joaquin could just make that decision for you, all the weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders would be lifted easily. Come to your rescue, please. Joaquin put his hands on his hips and gave yet another nod.

“You should probably stock up on kids’ books. It looks like they took a few.” He pointed to the bookshelf behind you—which, to your knowledge, was fuller than it usually was. But… you got the point. “Does this bookstore carry children’s books.”

Your heart was sputtering along, like the little engine that could. The only problem was that you don’t think you can. But you’ve already decided that you would follow Joaquin’s choice. If that meant that you would have to go to the Second Hand on your way home from work—for children’s books—then that was simply what you had to do. And if you saw Bucky instead of his employee, then that was just a bonus. Your sputtering heart could handle it; you think.

“Then,” you said, drawing in a deep sigh. “I will go grab some more books.”

You didn’t expect for the mid-September chill to creep in so quickly, but you wound up clutching your reefer coat closer to your body as you walked down the street. The small shop sign above the Second Hand grew closer, and your hands were already clammy at the idea of seeing him again. You already resigned to following Joaquin’s plan, that your intentions for coming in were for the kids only, but your body reacted otherwise. You’d stopped in front of the insurance agency, drawing in a deep breath to steel your nerves.

It didn’t work, but it was worth a shot.

A minute passed before you practically shoved yourself forward, scampering past the first window and through the door. The bell sang above you, and only the heads of other patrons perked up at the sound of it. To you, that felt like a good sign. Maybe he would become too occupied by the other people in the store to notice that you came back. You didn’t see any signs of Bucky, but you did find the aisle for children on the first floor, and you quickly made your way to the section.

It was colorful to say the least, and despite the fullness of the shelves it was surprisingly well organized. When it came to children’s books, though, you always veered toward the colorful ones. You crouched down, your fingers gliding across the thin spines of the books. The titles didn’t directly jump out at you, but then again, your mind was occupied, and you were constantly side glancing at the end of the aisles. But crouching on your knees, especially after a long day, proved taxing and you quickly moved to sit cross-legged on the floor. You did have three books picked out so far.

You heard the familiar thrum of Alpine’s purring behind you, and soon felt the feline brushing up against your back. You looked over your head, already smiling at the sight of them. How rude you were to not consider seeing Alpine again when you were stressing over the initial decision. Of course, you missed them, and their spine that was practically begging to be pet. But when you reached for them, they moved out of the way, only to come back. You shook your head, lightly laughing beneath your breath.

“What a tease,” you whisper, bending down.

You managed to rest a single fingertip beneath Alpine’s chin, scratching softly until the purring was so loud it could be a beacon to other cats. Your smiling was beaming, and you dared to scratch behind their ear.

You saw him move in a blur past your aisle, a massive stack of books in his arms—arms that were surprisingly thick and strained against the fabric of his Henley shirt. You would have paused the attention you were giving Alpine, but they absolutely refused to let you stop. And you didn’t have any time to move to a different aisle before Bucky reversed and filled the end of the aisle.

He wasted no time when it came to showing you that smile that made you swoon—almost, but your cheeks did feel warmer. You did smile back, hand still on Alpine.

“Hi,” you said first.

“Look who showed up,” Bucky responded with a short laugh. “Lemme put these books down, Reader. Hang on.”

As exhilarating as it was to watch him hold all those books, which caused your stomach to become all fluttery, you nodded in response. Were you always into arms? You’d assumed you were more into asses, but maybe you were wrong—it could just be all of him. Either way, he disappeared for a moment, and you quickly stole a breath for yourself. You considered standing up, but your legs felt as heavy as cement at the thought of it and you merely set the children’s books on one of the shelves and put your hands in your lap.

When Bucky came back, he had a folded papers in his hand and in one swift movement settled on to the floor beside you, his back pressed to the bookshelf you were facing. The three days you spent avoiding must’ve erased your memory of his appearance because pretty didn’t seem to cut it anymore. Your skin felt hot, your eyes tracing along the sharpness of his jawline, and your mouth practically watering at the pinkness of his soft lips. You were in way too deep, and, again, you were suddenly so concerned about Bucky noticing it.

He eyed you, the light from the fluorescents catching the cerulean of his irises so well. Like crystal clear waters.

He cleared his throat, unfolding the papers in his hand and from what you could tell he put too much effort into the list. Your eyes widened and you choked on a snort.

“Okay, uh,” you stammered for words. “That’s a lot.”

“I told you it would be extensive,” he chortled. “You’ve spent months here and you’ve only gone to the Brooklyn Bridge? It’s offensive.”

“I’ve gone to Coney Island!” You defended yourself. You leaned in, a momentary lapse in judgement. You eyed the list. “Which you’ve put on the list, by the way.”

“It’s for the experience.” He pointed beneath it, and you saw that he’d scribbled bullet points between each attraction he wanted you to see. “Two Coney dogs and then the Cyclone.”

You already found your mind filtering through the imagery of you on the Cyclone, knuckles blanched white as you gripped the handlebars for dear life. That wasn’t the issue, but instead the issue that arose from Bucky’s experience was the future candid photo immortalizing you vomiting the hot dogs you would have ingested beforehand. The hidden cameras on theme park rides always captured the worst moment, and for all you knew, that’s what Bucky was hoping for.

“You put thought into this list,” you commended him. “And you don’t even know me.”

A lot more thought than you’d initially anticipated; it would have made more sense if he simply told you a couple of places to visit. But to make at least two pages worth of locations and hidden spots for someone he’d only met once made no sense to you—that level of detail was better used one someone he knew.

He drew in a hiss of air, shoulders lifting in exaggeration before he seemed to settle on his next thought before glancing down at the list that now saw neatly in your lap. The tip of his tongue slipped out between his lips, swiping at the corner of his mouth—a habit you’ve come to notice, in the two times you’ve seen him.

“What better way to get to know each other than by doing the things on my list.”

You might as well resign yourself to this fate; it wasn’t as if you were going to be outright tortured by him (torture, fortunately, was nowhere to be found on his list). No, the fear that bubbled up your throat was purely at the idea that after all of this Bucky might realize that making such an extensive list may have been wasted on you. You weren’t boring, but you sedentary life had created a barrier between you and uninhibited fun. All those years at grad school where you buckled down to work on your degree had muffled that ability have fun.

But you wanted to get to know him. You wanted to know about the store, and how it came to be. There were other things—other things that made your cheeks redden and mouth water—that you wanted to know as well, but those would be better kept to yourself.

Finally, after much quiet thought, you nodded at him.

“We did have a deal.” You waved the list in the air. “So what are we doing first?”

He smiled widened, and you lost your breath when he moved to pat your thigh with a metallic hand. “Attagirl, Reader.”

[fumingspice]

All The Things She Said

Pairing: Lana Winters x Reader

Part | 1 2

Thank you for all the love! Requests are open :D

Lana dropped her head in her hand and rubbed her temples and you felt your face go red. Your group of friends on the other side of the room, who you thankfully had not informed of the night before, laughed at your embarrassment.

Attempting to diffuse the tension, Lana approached the three of you with textbooks. "Take these," she said, her glare went straight through you. "And please don't be late to my class again."

You could feel the skin under your necklace burn as your hands made contact while she passed you the books. You could tell she felt something too when her face flinched slightly. There was something different about her.

She was wearing her wedding ring.

Lana noticed that you had seen it. "Stay behind after class."

The three of you took your seat at the back row, and you did your best not to look up during as much of the lesson as possible, resorting to taking notes from the book. Your face burned with the anticipation of Lana's confrontation. You had borderline lied to her about something that could risk the integrity of her career and her reputation. The guilt almost sickened you to your stomach and your friends could sense it.

"You gotta keep calm," Emmett whispered to you, knocking his knee against yours to tell you to stop bounding your leg. You peaked up for the first time in the lesson while the others were taking notes. Lana averted her glance as soon as you did so. "She's been looking up at you every time she gets a moment."

You rubbed your forehead with two fingers and peeled your necklace from under your shirt. It was white-hot. "What the fuck?" You muttered to yourself, getting Emmett's attention.

"I didn't know you had one of those," he said. "Maybe it means that its pair is close by-" Emmett stopped himself and looked from you to Lana.

The bell rang before he had a chance to finish himself. "We'll wait for you in the cafeteria."

The class filed themselves out as you remained in your chair, Heather gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder as she left.

You watched Lana smile at your classmates as she crossed the room back to her desk. The suspense was killing you.

Finally, Lana stood up again and sat on her desk, folding her arms, and staring right at you. "Come over here, please," she said, darting her eyes to the floor.

You followed her instructions and sat at the desk opposite.

Lana played with a pendant on her necklace as she seemed to gather the words to use.

"Do you understand the severity of what happened last night, and why we can't go through with tonight's plan?" she asked after a moment of silence, her whiskey brown eyes finally meeting yours.

"Because you're married?" You replied, slightly meaner than you intended to sound. Lana's eyes look inflicted by your comment.

She took off her ring and laid it on the desk. "You lied to me. You told me you weren't younger than twenty-one and Jesus Christ, why did I want to believe you so bad?" She put her head in her hand and for a moment you were unaware if she was talking to you or herself.

"No, I didn't," you replied. Technically. "I told you that a lot of people think I'm younger than twenty-one. I'm eighteen."

Lana took a minute to regain her composure. "Y/N, I think you're an amazing, beautiful, incredibly funny and smart young lady and I would love to have gone on with whatever we had started. Though, at the end I am still your teacher and you're still my student. That's like fifty shades of illegal," she said. Her eyes were trained on the ground now as she straightened her back.

Your necklace was beginning to burn your fingers now and you could see Lana was rubbing her chest. You stepped closer to her as she backed against her table and put your hand under hers.

But I thought she didn't wear her necklace?

Her necklace was hot too. You pulled her necklace from under her blouse and inspected it. In that moment you finally felt like you were able to one-up even Aria Montgomery.

"Does that mean-?"

You rubbed your temples. "Good golly, this is going to cause the worst migraine ever."

Lana looked visibly stressed too. "Surely there's a mistake, right?"

You stared at her hard. "Soul necklaces have never made a mistake in the history of their goddamn existence, Lana!"

The teacher groaned. "The only reason I put this on was because last night you reminded me that I actually had one and I wanted to throw it in my husband's face that there's someone else better than him-" she stopped herself in her rant to inhale hard "-even though that's not too fucking hard. I did not. In a million years. Put this on to match with one of my students."

"How about the chick who tried to pick you up in a bar, then. Would you have wanted to match with her?"

Lana looked like she was about to strangle you, and you weren't necessarily opposed to that. "Y/N, please for the love of God don't make this harder for me. I've been thinking about you since I got home last night." You could see tears in her eyes and a pang of guilt hit you hard.

You walked to the door, peered down the hallway to make sure it was empty and closed the door.

"Lana-"

"Ms. Winters."

"Way to remove the power dynamic," you muttered sarcastically. Lana tried to hide a blushing smile. "I have six months left. I can pretend you're just my teacher and you can pretend I'm just your favourite student of all time."

Lana bit her lip. "You're still flirting with me? You looked like a deer in headlights when you walked in."

You felt your face glow red in embarrassment. "I thought I was gonna pass out."

That much was true. When it had finally hit you that Lana was your new French teacher you had felt a weight on your heart like never before.

"So, sixth months of pretending. I think I can cope with that," Lana said. She was less stressed now. Well, from whatever relief the conversation had provided.

You nodded and peeked through the window by the door. The hallway was clear. You turned back to face Lana and took a step towards her. The teacher could sense her apprehension as you laid a hand on her cheek and pulled her close to you.

You looked up into her eyes and waited for her cue. She nodded, her eyes locked with yours before they shut and lent in. Her lips pressed against yours and her hands curled in your hair as you worked to deepen the kiss. Lana backed right onto the desk until she was sitting right on it, one of your hands reached down to grab her thigh and pull it to your waist.

Her hands dropped to the back of your neck. You were bewildered. How could something be so wrong yet feel so right? This went against almost every moral code you had with your teachers. You were a model student and now here you between a teacher's legs.

Lana pulled away abruptly. "I don't want to go further than kissing while you're still in school," she whispered.

You smirked. "Please. You didn't even plan on kissing back, did you?"

Lana shook her head as she shuffled off the desk and grabbed her bag from the chair.

You had never seen anyone jump as high as Lana Winters did when Emmett banged the door open.

"Mother of Jesus in a tank. Can't either of you be gentle with the doors in this school?!" She exclaimed. "You'll give me a heart attack one of these days."

"Sorry, Ms. Winters," Emmett muttered. He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. "I won't stay for long. I also just wanted to say that you don't need to worry about Heather and I saying anything, because we won't. But Heather is also getting impatient and wants to know if you need a lift home."

You shook your head. "I'll be a few minutes. I can walk home but tell her I said thank you."

Emmett gave a thumbs up and left.

"It's raining cats and dogs outside," Lana said. "You'll catch your death of cold."

"I'm a fast runner, Ms. Winters."

Lana shook her head. "What kind of person would I be if I let my favourite student walk home in the rain, hm?" She held up her keys and headed to the door.

You walked behind her while she informed a superior that she was driving you home. Child protection policy and whatnot. Ironic.

Lana sat in the driver's seat and blasted the heat.

"What's your address?" She asked, booting up the sat nav. You recalled her saying that she had only recently moved to this city.

"Sixteen Eli Boulevard," you replied, checking a message from your mom. She was making Carbonara for dinner.

Lana stopped. "You're kidding, right?"

"Are you being serious right now? Why would I kid about where I live?"

Lana pursed her lips and laughed. "I just moved into that neighbourhood yesterday."

Well, that was convenient.

"So, I can be expecting a lot more car rides with you, Ms. Winters?"

Lana cocked her head at you and frowned as she began driving. "Can we establish some ground rules? Like no flirting on school grounds? We can't afford for that to happen again."

You nodded in slightly disappointed agreement.

"In school, at least."

You paused, turning to take in the view of the mountain that sat beside your small town. You never seized to be amazed at that view.

“Can we reschedule our date? I know a place outside of town,” you say. Lana squeezed her eyebrows hard in thought.

“How far out of town are we talking?”

“An hour or so on the train. Give or take.”

Lana stopped the car outside your drive. “I can do Saturday.”

Perfect.

You heaved yourself out of her car and gave her hand a squeeze. It was the closest thing to a kiss you could manage.

What on Earth am I doing to myself.

taglist: @its-soph-xx @delias-bitch-craft  @sarahpaulsonsoftie @jumpoffabridge-t @coffee-is-below-my-standards @definitelynot-a-writer​ @bottom4delia

[thiswasinevitableid]

71. you’re famous and you want to hide out in my bookstore which is fine except the stupid paparazzi won’t leave and now there’s a photo of us in the tabloids and they’re printing misinformation and why the fuck won’t you clear this up on your twitter account

Sternclay, NSFW, please!

Here you go! Let's end this round of meet uglies with a bang

The post-holiday slump is always the worst; everyone maxed out their credit cards last month and doesn’t want to buy anything, and the tourists won’t be back until the spring. It’s not that he’s concerned about keeping the lights on; Bookworms is popular and has a prime spot downton. It’s that he’s bored out of his mind.

All his orders for the day are in, everything’s been received and shelved, and he’s running out of things to tidy. If he’s lucky, the clouds that have been threatening a snowstorm since this morning will burst and drive some people to shelter among the stacks.

Dingdong

Thank the lord.

“Welcome to Bookworms, can I help you?”

The man stays by the door, peering through the glass onto the street while pulling off his beanie, “Huh? Oh, uh, nope, just coming in to, uh, get out of the cold.” He turns, and two realizations slap Joseph in the face.

One: this is the hottest man he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Two: He’s seen this man dozens of times, just never in person.

Barclay Cobb is a Food Network darling who got his start on Youtube, sharing recipes from vintage cookbooks he found at garage sales. That’s not why he’s starstruck, but it is probably why the taller man is hiding in the craft books alcove and keeps nervously looking his way.

“I won’t tell anyone you’re here, Mr. Cobb.”

“Phew” the man sighs, unzips his jacket, “thanks man. Thought I’d be bundled up enough that no one would spot me while I was out, but I didn’t get my hat on in time coming out of the Chinese place down the block.”

“I love that spot, they have the best beer-braised duck.”

“Yeah, I always stop by when I’m in town, they’re food is worth getting photographed for.”

It’s odd, everything he’s read suggests chef Cobb is friendly and warm when approached by fans in public.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate that people like my shows but, I, uh, sometimes I just want to eat or walk down the street without someone taking pictures of me.”

“Do you want to head into the back sections? There’s no windows in that half of the store.”

“Sweet, thanks. Uh, would it be cool if I autographed any books of mine you have? I like doing that, means I can send a little business towards smaller stores.”

“Of course. Here, the cookbooks are on this wall.” He slips into his office to grab a sharpie while Barclay pulls a stack of books and sits down on the floor. As the scratching of the pen fills the air, Joseph takes a trip to the paranormal and occult section, coming back with three copies of The Case for Bigfoot.”

“Y’know, not everyone stocks these.” Barclay smiles as he adds the paperbacks to the pile.

“Which is terrible business; you’re just as famous in the cryptozoology community as you are in the foodie one. This is the best book on bigfoot ever written, and I should know; I run a, um, a blog where I review books on paranormal topics.”

“You a true believer?” The cook blows on his signature in the copy of Desserts for All Seasons

“More an optimistic skeptic; your book is perfect because you make your case using actual evidence instead of reporting the same ten, poorly verified stories that everyone includes in their books. And I appreciated that you included recipes from the places you visited; that was a very nice touch.”

“Funny story about that” Barclay freezes as the front door opens. There’s definitely more than one person coming in, and when Joseph pokes his head around the corner he sees fifteen people, all with cameras or phones.

“Shit. You might want to hide in my office for a few minutes.”

By the time the crowd reaches him, Joseph is almost done re-shelving the signed books.

“Good afternoon, let me know if you need help finding anything.”

“Uh, yeah, we do, someone saw Barclay Cobb in your store-”

“Strange, we’ve only had one customer” he winces as someone’s shoulder knocks a hardcover off its display, “I didn’t get a good look at them before they went downstairs.” He tips his head at the staircase to the YA and Graphic Novel sections and is promptly knocked into the shelf as the throng hurries away.

“Come on, I can get you out through the back door” Joseph whispers to the Red Dust on his Soul poster on his office door. Barclay is remarkably quiet for a man his size as they sneak across the floor and let frigid, January air rush into the store.

“Thanks man” Barclay whispers, “I owe you one.” He sets a big hand on Joseph’s shoulder, squeezes it with a wink, then pulls on his hat and disappears into a crowd coming off at the bus stop.

---------------------------------------------------

Joseph always comes in through the back, flipping on lights as he goes, so the sea of bodies pressed to the front windows like a zombie horde surprises him. He knows Barclay tweeted about the signed copies, but this seems like excessive excitement even for a celebrity chef.

“Morning, Joseph--whoa, what the heck?” Aubrey clocks in without taking her eyes off the crowd, “why is everyone here this early.”

“Fan culture. I think.” The registers finish waking up, “I’ll pay holiday rates if you open that door for me.”

Aubrey gives a thumbs up, unlocks the double doors, and is swallowed up so quickly he worries she might have been trampled until she emerges near the greeting cards. Some people swarm the cookbooks, but an alarming number cluster around the counter, all shouting for his attention.

“How long have you been seeing Chef Cobb?”

“What?, I, I’m not-”

“Does he often visit your store?”

“No! He just came by yesterday!” There’s a horrible clatter of all the books on display near the door taking each other out like dominoes.

“Do you fuck in the backroom all the time?”

“Oh come on” He pushes past the man who asked that, deals with shouting all the way to his office and slams the door. A quick Google search for “Barclay Cobb” brings up a blurry photo of them in the alley, Barclays hand on his shoulder, and multiple headlines speculating on why the reclusive chef and author has chosen a nobody bookstore employee (he’s the owner, damn it) as his lover.

Okay, there’s a logical, easy fix to this.

He opens the door enough to speak, whistles so everyone will be quiet and listen to him, “I’m sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. Mr. Cobb isn’t in any kind of relationship with me; he just came into the store yesterday for some peace and quiet. So, if you’re looking for information about him, this is not the place for it. If you’re looking for the signed books, the cookbooks are there, and the paranormal section is just around that corner.” He gives his best customer service smile as the paparazzi exchange perplexed glances.

“...Is it true he bought you this store?”

“Wh--no! We rent this space.”

“From him?”

“Arggh!” He closes the door, slumps against it and cards his fingers through his hair. As he contemplates closing for the day, he spots a little, copper card on his desk. It’s Barclay’s, which is what he expected, but when he flips it over there’s a message scribbled in pen.

Main St Hotel, room 503, here until Monday.

He pulls out his phone, tells Aubrey she’s allowed to get the crowd out by any means necessary except for fire, and elbows his way out into the winter air.

------------------------------------------

Barclay almost purrs when he peers through the peephole in the hotel door; Joseph, as his nametag read, is standing on the carpet, looking twice as handsome as he did yesterday. His cheeks are even a little pink, and Barclay has some thoughts on how to make that blush deepen.

“Hey, glad you found-”

Joseph holds up his phone, screen in Barclays face, “please fix this.”

“Oh fuck.” He ushers him in, “I’m so sorry, I thought they’d stopped doing this shit.”

“No, and they’re fucking up my inventory as a result.”

“On it, lemme text my assistant, she’s good at drafting these kind of messages.”

“Thank the lord. Right, thank you for that, I’ll go now.”

“Wait” Barclay reminds his instincts that blocking the door is rude, “do you wanna stay a few minutes? You look kinda stressed.”

“Because my store is being overrun!” Joseph snaps, then takes a deep breath and straightens his sleeves, “I’m sorry, that wasn’t called for, this morning has just been a mess. And it, um, it’s a little bittersweet to have people thinking I could land a hot chef when I can’t get past a first date with most people. Um, sorry. Too much information. That’s a bad habit of mine.”

Barclay tucks his hands into his pants pockets, “About that. Y’know how I left my card?”

Blue eyes blink, then brighten, “I thought that might be the reason but I dismissed it as wishful thinking.”

“Nope. A guy who's hot, nerdy, and competent enough to sneak me away from the paparazzi? Sign me the fuck up.”

“I’m not opposed to a, um, tryst, but I really, really need to get back to the store, I can’t abandon Aubrey to deal with this mess on her own, that’s not fair, and now we’ll have to reorder things too....” He laughs, a tense sound, “good lord, I get a chance to fuck a celebrity crush and I’m turning it down for work.”

“Hey” Barclay sets his hands on Joseph’s shoulders, “it’s okay. You’re not the first guy to be married to his job. But, uh, out of curiosity, you got any vacation days to spare?”

----------------------------------------------

“This is all yours?” Joseph takes in the sprawling farm as Barclay unlocks the front door of a charmingly rustic house.

“Yep, all the way to the creek and all the way to the road. Might surprise you, but I like my privacy.”

“I’d never have guessed.” He replies with faux shock.

“Smartass.” Barclay kisses his cheek, holds the door open with his shoulder so Joseph can pull his bags inside. He packed as light and efficiently as he could for two weeks away (he’d initially planned on one until Aubrey and Moira ganged up on him and told him he hadn’t taken a real vacation in years so he was taking one now, damn it) but his suitcase is still heavy as he rolls it to the stairs.

“I got that.” Barclay shoulders his own travel bag and hoists Joseph’s in the other hand, carrying them to the second floor like they’re nothing more than pillows.

The week the chef was in Madison, Joseph went to his hotel almost every night. Fell asleep in his bed more than once, when discussions of fusion cuisine or the Fresno Nightcrawler turned into frantic, heated kisses under the covers. It’s only when the cook drops all luggage into the master bedroom that the truth of why he’s on this trip sets in.

“You really invited me all the way here because you think I’m hot.”

“Yeah but no.” Barclay drapes his arms over his shoulders, lips still a little chilly as he kisses them, “brought you here because you’re smart” another kiss, this one on his jaw, “and funny” another, on his nose, “and you’re the biggest bigfoot fan I know.”

“You wrote a book on it!”

“Point stands. And yeah” he pushes Joseph back so he lands on the bed, crawling atop him as he growls, “I invited you here because you’re so hot I wanna pour sugar on you and see if it melts. Now get your pants off; I’ve been thinking about sucking your dick since we left the city.”

------------------------------------------

“How did the whole bigfoot thing start?” Joseph sips his Irish Coffee as Barclay puts his feet into his lap.

“Guess the same way any famous person ends up with two gigs; I was doing the thing I love, then was dicking around on cryptid hunter forums and found out I was also hella good at researching bigfoot. By the time I got really into it, I had enough cash that I could write my book without worrying about going broke. Helps that I’d handed off The Arch and The Lodge and was just the exec chef on them, since then I could travel if I needed to.”

Joseph nods, moves one hand down to rub Barclays foot; in spite of no longer working the kitchens of his five restaurants or having to test recipes for the books right now, he spent most of today on his feet making elaborate meals for two. Joseph teases him that he’s trying to stuff him to the point he can’t leave. Barclay always chuckles and says he doesn’t know how right he is. The last two days, Joseph then wraps his arms around his boyfriend and tells him he’d stay forever if he could.

He’s never thought of himself as romantic; he’s pragmatic, knows that relationships are things built out of time, trial, and error. But god help him, he’s fallen for Barclay like they’re rom-com leads with only ninety minutes to reach their happy ending.

They’re out near the creek--really more of a small river--the next morning, talking about books and speculating on the existence of life on other planets, when a storm sweeps through the trees. As trunks groan and roots pull loose from the snow, Barclay calls, “we better head back.”

He gives a thumbs up. Then the ice under him cracks.

He doesn’t correct course quickly enough, the rest dropping from under him and dunking him in freezing water. It’s deep, too deep to stand, but he’s a decent swimmer and kicks towards the surface. When the shadow covers the opening with a boom, panic threatens to push the rest of his precious breath away.

The tree that fell across the ice is heavy, and no matter how he pushes it won’t give. He bangs on the ice on either side, trying to get it to crack, but his lungs scream and his limbs alert him that the cold will soon shut them down.

He closes his eyes, trying to think, not ready to give up, not with Barclay so close. There’s a groan of wood and frozen water. His mouth opens without permission, desperate for air, and chokes him on frost instead.

-----------------------------------

“...be dead, please don’t be dead, please please please don’t be fucking dead.”

“Nnff.” That’s not what he meant to say, but it seems to calm the voice above him.

“Thank fuck. I’m so sorry, I got to you as fast as I could, do, do you need anything?” Barclay sounds exhausted.

“Cold.” He mutters.

“I’m trying to warm you up gradually, that’s what the first aid book said but, uh, here.” Warm, fuzzy arms draw him into a hug.

Wait.

The first thing he sees when his eyes flutter open are arms covered in reddish-brown fur. When Barclay rubs their cheeks together, it tickles more than his beard usually does.

“Barclay? What the hell is going on?”

“Uh. So.” He’s rolled with ease to face a creature he’s never seen and eyes that he’d know anywhere, “I’m bigfoot. Or, uh, a bigfoot. Maybe that’s kinda obvious now.”

His brain crackles to life, “What better way to stay undiscovered than get famous by giving people the wrong information about you.”

“Some of it’s true. Just not anything people could use to actually find me.”

“Smart, big guy” Joseph pets his face.

“You’re taking this pretty well.”

“I think my system is too shocked to experience more shock.” He shudders, “relatedly, how’d I get out of the river?”

“I lifted the tree off and pulled you free. Took my disguise off to do that and, uh, the fucking thing fell into the water when I got you. So I’m gonna be stuck like this until a friend of mine can get me a new one.”

“No complaints here. You look incredible.” He runs his hands up and down Barclay’s side and chest, warmth seeping into his fingers as he does, “But I’m a little surprised you were willing to risk someone seeing you or me blabbing to someone and trashing your whole life in the process.”

A low rumble as Barclay kisses his forehead, “It’s worth it. I, this is gonna sound so fucking cheesy, but I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time, and there was no way I was gonna lose you.”

“Oh.” Affection and surprise well up in his throat, pressing down his words so all he can do is nestle closer to the cryptid and let himself be loved.

His mind rebounds quickly from his misadventure. His body would like him to remember it for a while so he doesn’t put it in such jeopardy again any time soon. Instead of helping Barclay with cooking and chores, he lays under the covers while the storm rattles the roof and the cook clangs pots on the lower floor.

Barclay, attentive to a fault, is downright doting now that he’s stuck in bed. He’s never without a hot drink or something to read, and the cryptid is happy to answer the majority of his questions about the finer points of being bigfoot. When it’s bedtime, his boyfriend pulls him atop his massive frame and cuddles him, whispering over and over that he’s glad he’s okay, until they fall asleep.

Today followed much the same pattern, though when dinner time rolls around he gets a fantastic surprise.

“Chocolate fondue?” He peers hopefully at the bed tray in Barclays hands.

“Only the best for you, babe.” The cook sets the burnished wood down on the bedside table, “we lucked out, the berries I bought last week are ripe.”

Joseph reaches for the fork, but Barclay beats him to it.

“You should save your energy. Since you’re, uh, still recovering.”

He shrugs, sets his hands in his lap and opens his mouth for a chocolate dipped raspberry. It doesn’t take long to spy Barclay’s ulterior motive. The cook has a whole wardrobe designed to fit his cryptid form, but it’s having trouble concealing certain things.

“You’re getting off on this.”

“I, uh, I, maybe a little” Barclay blushes under his fur.

Joseph raises an eyebrow, tilts his head at the bulge in Barclay’s pants, “You call that ‘little’?”

A rumbly whine, the fork paused halfway to Joseph’s mouth, “I can’t help it. I’ve got a thing for taking care of partners, especially ones who are all competent and put-together the rest of the time, and you look so good when you eat and, ohfuck.”

Joseph inhales sharply as chocolate hits his exposed upper chest. It’s not hot enough to burn, and he moans as the sensation seeps across his skin. Barclays eyes, wide and ravenous, keep flicking between the splatter and his face.

“Looks like you made a mess, big guy.” Joseph begins undoing the remaining buttons on his pajamas, “you should clean it up.”

“Fuck yeah.” Barclay lunges, mouth first, lapping and sucking at the marked skin as Joseph laughs. Their shirts hit the floor together as he digs his nails into auburn fur. Barclay grunts at the pressure, sits up with a grin, and drips a line of chocolate down the right side of Joseph’s ribs.

“Oops. Better fix that too.”

“Cleanliness is importantAH, ahhnn.” He squirms a bit as Barclay nuzzles his stomach before dragging his tongue up his skin. There’ve been times he mourned the fact T didn’t make him as hairy as some other guys, but right now he’s grateful for the clear canvas Barclay can mark however he pleases.

“A mess can be more fun.” The cook licks his lips, sucks a hickey above his belly button, “and by the time I’m done with you, babe, won’t be a single part of you that isn’t one.”

“Then get to it.” He shoves his pants down, lets Barclay pull them the rest of the way off and fold them. He lays back, resting his arms behind his head, and moans as the cook drizzles chocolate on each hip. Joseph feels like a gourmet dessert and, from the growls between his thighs, Barclay intends to treat him like one.

His boyfriend is always enthusiastic when sucking him off, but tonight he throws finesse out the window in favor of burying his face at the crease of each thigh in turn, licking his hips clean while clawing at his calves and sides. He lifts his head, wipes his mouth with a satisfied grin that shows the points of his teeth, and dives down again.

Joseph yelps with pleasure, the hint of fangs hitting all his buttons, lighting him up like downtown on a dark night. It’s intense, the scratch of fur on skin just different enough from the usual beard to remind him of who’s down there, and his legs try to kick closed. Barclay growls again, holding them open with ease.

“Not until I’m done with you, babe.”

He surrenders to flood of feelings from both outside and within him, Barclay’s sheer delight at his body rendering all his doubts and worries toothless and small, quieting them until all he can think about is incredible creature holding and all he can say is some variation on-

“Barclay, please, right there, lordalmighty that’s good, that’s so good big guy, please.” He squeezes his eyes shut, craving the impending orgasm more than he has words for. Barclay sucks determinedly and huffs, pleased, as Joseph's thighs tense in his hold and his climax chases away the remnants of yesterday's aches.

As his brain insists that really, body, opening our eyes isn’t that hard, there’s a metallic zip and strong legs bracketing his thighs.

“Here I thought you couldn’t look any better.” He murmurs as Barclay gleefully strokes his cock, “as soon as my brain works again, I’m coming up with so many ways to use that gorgeous thing.”

“Can’t, fuck, can't wait to hear ‘em, but I only got one for tonight; I’m gonna use it to cum alllll over that fucking perfect body, fuck, Joseph, you look so good when you’re ruined, fuck.” An impressive amount of cum spatters up his stomach, chest, and neck as Barclay howlgrowlpurrs and then sets his hands carefully on the bed.

Joseph’s whole body is sticky with chocolate, sweat, and cum, and Barclay definitely has at least two of those things mussed into his fur.

“You’re right, big guy, a mess can be fucking amazing.”

That being said, being sticky gets old quick, and soon they’re in the tub, Joseph whistling as he shampoos Barclay’s chest. The cryptid hasn’t stopped purring, and every time he looks Joseph’s way the sound deepens.

“When are you next in the city?”

The cook yawns, “Was gonna check on how the new chef de cuisine is getting on at Kepler in about two week.”

“Would you like to stay with me? It’s not fancy, but it’s close to the Ismuth, so you can get to Kepler on foot without trouble, and there are fewer crowds there this time of year. I suspect paparazzi are also less likely to track you down at some random house than at a hotel. That might make up for my lack of, um, high class amenities.”

“Good point. But I gotta be honest babe; as long as you’re there, that’s all I need to be happy.”

[fappellmoan]

happy hawkins holiday hiatus to @mikewheelerthepaladin !! here’s a lighthearted fic + a playlist of songs i listened to a lot while writing, i hope you enjoy 🥳

& a big thank you to @sevensided for putting this together, it’s been super fun <3

It’s the first time he’s been in over a year, really, but he’d entertained the thought of asking Will over the summer, for one last challenge before he left. It never happened, everything went by too fast; and, honestly, Mike didn’t know how to talk to him with the goddamn weight of everything - hi, we’ve barely spoken in the last year and we just almost died, again, and now you’re moving away forever - wanna hang out?

It’s the first time he’s been in over a year, really, but he’d entertained the thought of asking Will over the summer, for one last challenge before he left. It never happened, everything went by too fast; and, honestly, Mike didn’t know how to talk to him with the goddamn weight of everything - hi, we’ve barely spoken in the last year and we just almost died, again, and now you’re moving away forever - wanna hang out?

It’d never been that hard.

And it sucked. The whole thing. Now that Will is gone, it gnaws at him daily that they could have had more time together. Or a proper goodbye, at least. Instead, he spent a lot of time last summer sitting around, figuring out how to approach El and his feelings toward her, and most of all, alone.

But now the Byers are coming home for Christmas. And staying with The Wheelers, on top of it all.

So, seeking some sort of cryptic universal answer to his life problems, Mike returns to the place of a lot of younger memories, of crowding around machines with Lucas and Dustin and Will, a conglomeration of shouting and booing and cheering when one of them topped a high score, of frantically patting down their pockets for a few extra coins.

All of these wistful memories come to halt, however, when he finds a familiar redhead occupying one of their favorite games.

Max glances at him through the screen. “What do you want?”

“Uh, to play?” Honestly, he doesn’t care; he’s not sure he could focus enough to win much anyway. “Kicking your ass would be a plus.”

“Yeah, as if.” Her gaze fixes back on the colorful pixels dancing in front of her face.

Okay, well, she’s not moving anytime soon. He could probably just walk away, but a part of him wants company, even if it’s from someone hellbent on disagreeing with him.

Even when the Party hangs out now, Mike finds himself bickering with Max over what movies to see, where to eat, nearly anything, even when he doesn’t really give a shit. It’s the principle of the thing, and she gets under his skin. 

Maybe it’s a good thing.

Mike sighs, leans against one of the neighboring games, and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I don’t really know why I’m here.”

“Well, if you’re looking for me to throw pity money at you, it’s not happening.” After a beat, and losing the level, she kicks at the machine and turns to him. “Now look what you made me do. All your moping and talking - I could’ve beaten that if you would just leave me alone.”

He offers a quarter.

“Forget it.”

“I’ll buy you a pop, then.” She glares at him. “Seriously, okay, this is the first and only olive branch. Take it or leave it.”

After a moment of scowling at him, her arms folded, she slowly concedes, a smug look taking over. “Okay. I’ll take it, Wheeler.”

“So, you’re stalking me at the arcade because… of nothing?”

Mike presses his lips into a line. “I’m not stalking you,” he says, “and it’s not - it’s not nothing. I was gonna ask Lucas or Dustin to come, but… I felt like I needed to be here alone.”

Max sips on her drink. “That didn’t work out.”

“Guess not.”

“So you did need to talk to someone.”

“Guess so.”

God, this is borderline painful. Sitting in a shoddy little booth across from Max, whom he never once intended to have a heart-to-heart with, is a new level of desperation. But here they are.

With the most grandiose sigh he’s ever heard in his life, Max straightens in her chair. “Well, I don’t love giving advice to annoying teenage boys, but I’ve been told I’m good at it. Advice, you know.”

Mike raises an eyebrow. “Was it El who said that, by chance?”

“Bite me.”

Amused, Mike smiles, and he slides the near-empty cup between his hands like a little game, something else to focus on. “Okay, fine, give me some advice.”

Max frowns at him like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. “Maybe give me a situation to work with?” She mutters something under her breath that he doesn’t bother with.

“Well, the Byers are coming home and staying with us, and I wanted to come up with something really nice to do, you know. I know that they’re really nervous because it’s… the holidays have been rough, the past few years.” He finishes his drink and stares at the lid. “They almost refused. So, I dunno, I figured I could do something to make them feel like it’s still home.”

“Oh,” Max nods, finally breaking into a slight smile, “well, cool, you could set up something really romantic for El! She’d love it.”

Right. The girlfriend. 

He had no clue where the hell they left things when the Byers moved. About a month ago, Mike called to tell her the distance was confusing and they might need to take a break. He figured she would’ve told Max because, from his understanding, they spoke on the phone on an almost daily basis.

“Sure - yeah, yeah, that’s - it’s a good idea. For sure.”

Max falls back into a confused squint. “Was there something else you had in mind?”

Mike isn’t sure how to get it out without sounding like a total airhead. So he copes with it the best way he can. “You know what, this was dumb. I’ll figure it out myself.” He grabs his jacket and stands to leave.

“No, no, Mike - I want to help.” She’s looking up at him with a genuinely nice expression, holding out a hand to stop him from fully up and leaving. “I’m really good at this stuff, just let me know what I can do. No judgment. I swear.”

“I have to get home tonight anyway,” Mike says cautiously. “Told my mom I’d help with dinner.”

“Can I come over tomorrow?”

He frowns, and something digging at his stomach makes him respond with, “Why do you care?”

Max’s jaw sets. She stands up to meet his eye level and sets a look on him. “Even if I didn’t, even if I couldn’t care less about you, Mike, I care about El. And Will. And I want to be a part of their homecoming. So maybe you could figure out a way to not be a dick about it.” She snatches her drink cup and storms off from the table, leaving Mike to scramble after her with more apologies.

He’s gotta get better at this whole ‘girls’ thing.

He catches up to her outside. “Okay, listen - come over after school tomorrow. We can meet outside by the stairs.”

She barely turns to him, says, “Fine,” and then hops on her bike and rides away.

That’s how Mike ends up with Max in his basement, slowly walking and examining his things, but not touching any of them, thankfully.

It’s going alright, thus far. A part of him feels like he should reach out to Lucas and Dustin, too, since they’re also Will’s best friends. But something about this… works. He and Max can’t seem to stay entirely civil in each other’s company, but she gets something. And she hasn’t brought up El even once since yesterday.

“So, I’m gonna come up with a really cool campaign - well, I’ve been working on it, and I can tell you about it - “ Max lifts herself on tiptoe in his peripheral vision, “ - but anyway, we can pull an all-nighter, if everyone’s up for it, and make snacks and drinks and stuff, and we can have movies on for you guys, and I thought I might even look for some costumes because I really think Will would get a kick out of it. I can put lights up, too - “

“You draw?”

Max’s back is to him, as she’s looking over his wall of posters and pinned pictures. As he steps closer, he realizes her eyes are fixed on a sketch that definitely bears some resemblance to him.

“No, Will sent me those,” he says quickly, not wanting to seem like a giant narcissist, because Will’s drawing is - how can he say it - beautiful. “He’s been using charcoal a lot recently, he told me he got some new art stuff. I think he wants to send one of all of us.”

Max turns to him, and he can’t tell if she’s tearing up for some reason, but she quickly wipes any sign of tears away. “That’s so neat,” is all she says at first. There’s a small silence between them, and she’s just looking at him, and he has no idea what the hell he should say. “He’s such a good person,” she adds quietly, “I wish I got the chance to really know him.”

Mike’s breath hitches for a few seconds. “Yeah. I mean, he mentioned hanging out with you a few times.”

A smile lifts the girl’s cheeks. “Yeah, to bitch about you, mostly.”

“Hey!” he protests, but he can’t help but smile too, this time. This might just be their most pleasant interaction to date. “He never mentioned that.”

“I don’t know how he could, all you freakin’ do is talk.”

“Whatever.” Mike messes with some Christmas crafts on the table, holding them up in his vision to see where they might fit in the basement. He clears his throat. “You know, El and I, uh - we split.”

Max nods slowly. “She said you guys don’t call much.”

“No, we didn’t. I mean, I don’t even call Will, we just write.” He leans against the table, eyes glazing over as he looks over years of memories, dorky craft nights, and shitty school projects that he or his mom made a point to keep. “It’s too hard to talk - to either of them, you know. I didn’t think I could hear their voices without…”

Max cuts him off. “I get it.” She crosses over to the table, helping him pull apart old paper snowflakes. “I’m just the opposite. I’m scared if I don’t talk to them, I’ll convince myself it was all fake. And maybe it’d be for the better, but I’m glad I knew them. Even if only for a little while.”

Mike bites down on his lips, attempting to bury all the emotion threatening to spew out of him. “Yeah.”

Max finally looks up at him, and though they seem to have shared a moment, she snaps back out of it. “All offense, Mike, these are ugly as shit. I’m helping you make new ones, okay?”

“It’s for the memory!”

“No more living in the past.” She raises her eyebrows at him, and he pinches his face in annoyance, so she says, “Okay, you can put them up, in like, little corners, but we’re making new ones. Surprise. Work with me here, Michael.”

“It’s my basement, Max.”

“Did you or did you not ask for my help?”

Mike blinks. “Not really.”

She throws a crafty paper star at him. “Shut up, you’re glad I’m here.”

He shakes his head and moves on, but though he may never admit it, a part of him really is glad.

Weeks pass in what feels like a span of days or maybe hours, with Mike and Max sorting out their surprise plans with a typical amount of bickering - but hey, they get it done. Max has lots of opinions about decorations and music that make Mike roll his eyes, but she’s got a good eye and she offers to help with baking, which is not a strong suit of his. Yes, they throw a lot of streamers at each other, and threaten to storm out every other hour, but it gets done.

And the day is finally here.

Mike pulls himself into his best festive sweater and eyes himself in the mirror. He messes with his hair, though the long, wavy curls never seem to fall exactly into place - maybe growing it out was a mistake - and tugs at the creases of his sweater, letting out a huffy breath. None of it is working with him. When he can’t stand looking at himself anymore, he dashes down to the kitchen to help his mom with desserts.

She smiles when he plops into a seat. “You okay, honey? You seem a little tense.”

Mike jolts. “Uh, yeah, just excited.”

“Good! Joyce said the kids haven’t stopped talking about the trip for weeks.”

Great. “I hope we live up to the hype.”

“Oh, Mike. You know you don’t have to try that hard.” Karen stops frosting for a moment to look at him. “Will’s your best friend. El is excited to see you,” she nudges at him, and he coughs out a nervous laugh, “and Joyce thinks you’re an angel-”

“God, mom-”

“I’m serious. Don’t worry so much.” She leans forward on her forearms. “I know you think every problem in the world is on you, but it’s not. It’s enough just to be around the people you love. If anything, you’ve gone overboard.”

Overboard. Hopefully, it’s not too much.

Finally, he caves, exhaling slowly with a simple, “Okay.” He stays beside her, tapping his fingers, and eventually ruining a gingerbread man’s face until she notices and smacks his hand away.

There’s a knock on the door, and while Mike hops to his feet, his mother calls out, “Come in!” earning a panicked look from him. She mouths, ‘Chill,’ but he still half-jogs to the door and throws it open.

Nancy calls down the stairs, “Who is it?”

It’s Max, brandishing a few small wrapped gifts.

“Hello, sunshine,” she says. After a moment, “It’s great to see you too, Michael, allow me to invite myself in.”

“It’s just Max,” Mike calls back. He steps aside, and Max brushes past him, dropping her gifts by their tree and running into the kitchen. 

“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler!”

“Hey, Max, Merry Christmas!”

Mike’s mom seemed to think Max was one of the most charming people on the planet, something they frequently disagreed on, but he can’t be mad at their pleasant chatter right now.

Especially not when the next knock comes so soon.

Probably just Lucas and Dustin, dragging their feet as usual.

Mike opens the door, prepared with a quippy remark for his friends, but his stomach drops immediately.

It’s Will. Holding a bunch of luggage.

Mike is caught up in everything about him. He’s taller. New, floppy hair, tousled and messy in the biting snowy winds. His forearms exposed as his bags push against his jacket. Will.

The boy smiles at him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Mike manages.

Will looks past him with a tiny wave, and Mike turns to see Max beaming and waving back, and then Max slips back into the kitchen and Will returns his gaze to Mike. “Can I come in?”

“Hey, Mike!” Joyce interrupts from the car, straining to grab something in the backseat. “Merry Christmas, honey!”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Byers!” Mike, finally catching up his brain-to-movement reactions, moves to let Will in. “Yeah, come in. I’m gonna, uh, go help your mom.”

“Cool.”

He immediately forgets why he’s moved and attempts to step out as Will crosses the threshold, almost knocking him over, so Mike grabs his arms to stabilize with a, “Sorry - uh - whoops, haha, don’t fall,” and Will chuckles and shifts a bag to his shoulder, saying, “It’s alright,” and Mike spends his walk to the Byers’ car trying not to curse himself out.

“Oh, Mike, thank you, sweetie,” Joyce grunts, pulling a heavy tote bag from the floor of the car. “Can you carry this?” Mike nods and takes it from her easily, offering his arms out for extra luggage. Together, with Jonathan, who greets him with a, “Merry Christmas, man,” they manage to get everything inside in one trip. Mike hardly notices El rummaging through the trunk until she comes stumbling along with a basket full of gifts.

Finally, they’re all inside, and only a beat goes by before Nancy comes bounding down the stairs to greet Jonathan, and Joyce is grinning around at everybody, and then Karen rushes in from the kitchen with excited greetings.

“It is so good to see you,” Joyce says, opening her arms up to Mike for a hug. “You’ve grown so much-'' she looks at Karen and mutters, “-so much-” then looks back at Mike. “We’ve missed you all.”

“I’ve missed you guys too,” Mike says, “I’m glad you decided to come.”

“We couldn’t miss it. Figured it’s best that we’re together, you know.” Her expression falters, but she takes a breath and carries on with moving bags and ‘Merry Christmases.’

Joyce and his mom wind up chattering, and Karen takes off her apron to help transfer some luggage to the spare room. Nancy takes Jonathan’s hand and heads upstairs, grabbing one of his bags from the ground.

Will seems to have disappeared into the kitchen with Max, leaving his things behind, so it’s just Mike and El.

Mike takes in a deep breath.

It wasn’t an ugly breakup; honestly, El seemed unfazed. Their calls were little more than small talk about their days, most of the time, and even though he thought they might hold onto their past, everything they’d been through… it seemed to work best that they didn’t.

“Hey, Merry Christmas.”

El smiles easily. “Merry Christmas, Mike.” She lifts the basket slightly for acknowledgment. “Can these go by the tree?”

“Yeah, yeah, go for it.”

El nods and slips by the couch over to the tree, carefully laying out the gifts. After a few moments of Mike awkwardly leaning against the couch arm, thinking up something to say - thank god she didn’t seem too focused on him - Max walks in, her mouth stuffed with a truffle.

“El!” She darts over to the tree, and El jumps up, eyes bright, immediately throwing her arms around the girl’s shoulders. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” El giggles. “I brought you a gift.”

“You too. I can’t wait for you to see it. But first, you have to try one of these sweets Mrs. Wheeler’s making. They’re like frickin’ heaven.” She holds out the last bite of her own, and El takes it from her hand, eyes lighting up mischievously as she bites into it.

“It’s amazing.”

“I know. I think we should go sample some of the others.”

Mike calls out to their backs, “You guys better leave some for later on,” and in response, hears Max mimic him. He rolls his eyes and stands up from the couch.

And then it’s just him and Will, who’s beaming at him, seemingly amused by their banter.

Okay, Mike, now or never. “Uh, I’ll show you downstairs.”

“We’re not staying in your room?” Will asks simply, crossing over to retrieve his duffel bag.

“We totally can, I just have something I wanted to show you.”

Will nods. “Oh, okay, cool.”

Mike assists with a smaller bag and leads him to the basement door; before he runs down the stairs, he catches Max’s eye, and she gives him a thumbs up and mouths, ‘You got this.’ Deep breaths. At that moment, he’s incredibly thankful for her presence. 

He watches as Will follows him down, slower, glancing around at the familiar surroundings. His eyes catch on everything Mike and Max put together over the past few weeks, and his footsteps grow slower as he takes it all in.

Streamers of all festive colors and off-balance fairy lights hang along the corners of the basement, phrases of ‘Welcome home,’ hand-cut and pasted on the front wall; at the table, a game mat and figures sit in wait, silly hats placed in front each chair; even the TV is prepared with a Santa hat, the couch covered in blankets and pillows, a few sleeping bags folded on the floor.

“Mike,” Will says quietly, stepping in a small circle, “what is all this?”

“Your homecoming party.” Mike is all jitters; he leans against the wall and shoves his hands in his pockets to disguise any visible shakes. “You like it?”

Will finally looks straight at him, an indiscernible look painted on his face. “Yeah,” he says, nodding rapidly, “yeah, it’s great - but we, uh,” he swallows and shakes his head, “we don’t, um, have to play D&D. I mean-”

“I don’t know, Will,” he ventures to step away from the wall, taking slow steps over to the table. Will follows every move. “I mean, I was really excited to have you back, even just for a little bit. We all were.” He reaches the table and leans back on his hands. “Figured having our cleric back warranted some festivities.”

Will shakes his head, runs his hands along his face, and turns away. The bit of confidence Mike has slowly starts to trickle.

“Is it okay?”

Will shakes out of his stupor and chuckles. “It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. You’ve truly outdone yourself, Michael.” He lifts himself on tiptoe to look at decorations on top of Mike’s shelves. “Are these from our big craft night, like, years ago?”

The horrible crayon work makes Mike smile - they made half of the snowmen evil, citing a Great Abominable Snowman War, and gave them wicked frowns and smiles, claws on their stick hands. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t know you kept them.”

“I keep everything.” An awkward chuckle breaks from his chest. “Not everything, like, a hoarder or whatever, but - “

Will simply smiles and pushes himself forward toward the back wall, brushing past Mike, to his different pinups. He fixates on the sketch of Mike that he’d sent about a month back. “You know, you should probably take this down. I don’t think you’ll hear the end of it from Lucas and Dustin if you don’t.”

“Screw ‘em.��

“Right.” Will quirks his eyebrow and moves to sit in his designated chair, right next to where Mike is currently resting. “So, they know about D&D?”

“They know.” Mike smiles, and looks at the floor, right where their legs brush up against each other. “They seem pretty excited to have the party back together. To remind you of how badass your first one was,” he adds.

Will peers up at him for a moment before quietly saying, “I never joined another one.” Mike meets his eye for a moment, then, threatened by the silence that follows, clears his throat and distracts himself with a particularly interesting notch in the wood paneling. “Did you guys find someone else?”

“No, no,” Mike assures him. “We haven’t touched any of this stuff. It’s not the same.”

A silence settles between them, one that neither seems to know how to navigate. But Will keeps his gaze steady on Mike, trying to breach some barrier, to fall back into their usual ways.

Something is different, though; it’s not uncomfortable, it never could be, but it’s something intimidating. Will seems more comfortable, at least; he’s not shying away from anything Mike throws at him.

And he tries to break the silence first. “Y’know - “

“Will,” Mike cuts him off, and he’s not sure what he’s saying, or where he’s going with it, but he knows he’s supposed to say this. His name. “I need you to know that I missed you.”

Will blinks at him, cocks his head. “I missed you too,” he says matter-of-factly.

The words are eating at him, right there on the edge of his mind, and Will looks almost concerned and now Mike just wants to drop it because that’s not what he wanted. But he can’t, not now. “I missed you the most.” It sounds so juvenile. “More than everyone else. I missed you before you even left. I just didn’t know how to say it.” He breathes in and out, focusing on Will’s cheeks, the tip of his nose, anything but his eyes. When Will doesn’t say anything, the rest just spills. “I missed you when our first first day of school apart came and passed, and I didn’t even call. I missed you at homecoming. And,” he licks his lips, not really sure where his speech is heading, “I know you had to go, it’s fine. We’ll figure it out. But I feel like we haven’t been on the same page in a long time. So, I missed you, and I love you, and that’s that.”

Will looks at him funny, and then his face softens into something like laughter, and Mike is genuinely about to run and throw up somewhere, but then the boy closes his eyes and says, “I love you too.”

Mike blanches. “I don’t think I said that.”

“Oh, you definitely did.”

“Oh,” he nods, mind spinning, “well, you know…”

Will stands to be at Mike’s level, leans forward on his knees. Mike stops breathing. “I do,” he says, “but tell me again.”

Mike swallows down a breath of courage and suggests, “I think I might like you.” His eyes flit to Will’s lips, then back to his eyes. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll allow it,” Will says, a bright smile causing lines near his eyes. Mike smacks at his arm, nervous laughter coming out with a quiet, ‘Shut up.’ Will moves so he’s resting his fingertips on the table. Inches away.

“Same page, then?” Mike asks.

“Same page, yeah, for sure.”

Mike nods absently, distracting himself with the strings on Will’s sweatshirt. “So I don’t sound crazy?”

Will laughs. “I dunno. I always counted on us going crazy together. Figured we might have a few extra years, but hey, I’m all in.”

And then Mike is flashed back to a night on his couch just over a year ago. Knees knocking together, shared smiles. A promise.

So much has changed.

He wants to know what Will meant. A future of being in each other’s lives, maybe, getting old and senile and batshit crazy. Always being there.

He never dared to think about it before.

“So what now?”

Will shrugs. He dips his head to meet Mike’s eyes with his own. “What do you want, Mike?”

And finally, he thinks he might know.

Or maybe he’s always known.

He scoots forward, takes Will’s face in his hands, and kisses him. It’s just a quick press of their lips, but in that moment, he knows a few things for sure. His heartbeat is going a mile a minute, and Will must be able to feel it; it’s absolutely exhilarating, surreal, insane that he’s kissing his best friend; and, he is definitely in like, or maybe love, with Will Byers.

He’ll probably love him forever.

When Mike pulls back and his eyes flutter open to see Will, flushed, blinking back at him, slightly dazed, he doesn’t want to pull away at all. He did that. Mike’s hand remains on his jaw, lax, and he runs his thumb along Will’s bottom lip, curious to see his reaction, curious about a lot, now.

Will lets out a breathy chuckle. “Wow,” he mumbles, “that’s new.”

“Yeah.” Mike exhales shakily, takes one of Will’s hands, and says, “Merry Christmas, Will.”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas.”

The world doesn’t seem to fall apart like Mike thought it might if he ever got to this point, so, that’s nice.

“So…” Mike begins carefully, “you’re gonna have to be slow with me here. This is sort of a lot for me.”

“Me too,” Will replies simply. He squeezes Mike’s hand. “But we’ll figure it out.”

“Totally.”

Will takes his cheeks in his hands and smiles into a very gentle kiss, his fingers curling into the hair at the nape of Mike’s neck. It’s soft and sweet and lingering - but not for too long, as moments later the door upstairs busts open and shouts of, “BYERS!” from their dear friends sound through the air, and Mike and Will jump apart, equally startled and laughing.

“Down here!” Will calls out. He looks at Mike, smiles, offers, “To be continued?” and as he walks past, he leans in, just to leave a quick peck on Mike’s cheek.

And all Mike can do is laugh and shake his head and run after him to meet their friends; Lucas and Dustin are horribly late to the surprise, but they collide into Will the second they see him, shouting over each other, ‘What’s going on, dude?’ ‘Merry Christmas!’ ‘You’ve missed so much,’ and everyone is grinning and chattering, and it’s awesome.

Max approaches him, watching all of the madness, smacks a hand to his shoulder, and says, “You did good, Wheeler.”

“Yeah, I did.” She punches his arm lightly, laughing, so he adds, “thank you for everything. Seriously.”

“I think we should work together more often.”

Mike scoffs into a laugh, and says, “Yeah, guess so.”

Max rolls her eyes, but at least now they’re actually laughing in each other's company. It’s great progress from just a few weeks ago.

After a minute of watching the boy’s shenanigans, Max smiles. “Well, Merry Christmas, anyway.”

“Merry Christmas,” he responds, and he watches as she jumps up onto a kitchen stool, chatting and giggling with El.

With everyone back together again, finally, Mike feels really alive; so, he jumps in with all the excited shouting and group hugs and bickering, and celebrates the merriest Christmas he can remember in a long time.

[scribbleseas]

Unfiltered, Chapter 2: A Little White Lie

Description: You are a freshly graduated cadet of the 104th Training Corps with charisma and beauty to spare. Sleeping with three very different men pushes you into the center of the most complicated web of secrets and lies that can only be unraveled by one thing: the truth. The same truth that you hide at every turn to shield your carefully crafted exterior and the future of your unborn child.

Story Warnings: Explicit content: detailed descriptions of unprotected sex, really just a lot of sex, so if smut makes you uncomfy, this isn’t the fic for you! Accidental pregnancy, vomiting, cursing, slut-shaming, mentions of blood, angst with a bittersweet ending, hinted abandonment issues, mentions of a terminal illness.

Chapter Warnings: No chapter warnings that I can think of!

Author’s Note: Thank you for all of the support on the first chapter of this story! It was heartwarming to see.  (Also, Eren and the rest of the 104th are aged up in this fic!!)

Happy Reading!

- Dan

⇠ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER ⇢

. . .

Daily training within the Scout Corps was rigorous on its own, but the added challenge of maneuvering with sore limbs and a battered core was excruciating, the pain nagging you with every step, a bitter reminder of your lack of orgasm and the same inappropriate argument with your superior. 

Everything about Captain Levi was infuriating- his indifference, the way he can simply ignore you outside of sex and orders. Sex and orders- was there even a difference between the two at this point? He couldn’t keep casting you off as an afterthought if he wanted this to continue, which he did. It was either you or a cold midnight jerk-off, and you knew he’d do anything to avoid the latter. Meanwhile, you had options and quite a few at that. 

Since the end of March, the weather was quickly picking up to a warmer, sunnier disposition- which meant training was outside once again. Squads were put into training groups, conversing with each other and going through warm-up drills while you took the time to subtly look over your comrades, searching for a proper candidate to dangle yourself in front of. 

You halfheartedly pulled your right arm across your body to appear busy to avoid a harsh scolding from a superior for being lazy. Out of all the scouts, the cadets from the 104th Training Corps were the best candidates, simply for their lack of prestige. Levi wouldn’t care if you picked any scout or any other officer, but you knew he’d notice if you liked someone that he considered below him. 

Someone he had yet to respect.

Particularly…

Your eyes landed on Eren Jaeger- a friend of yours and, fortunately, the titan shifter who Levi was tasked with keeping an eye on for the time being. Eren was always easily flustered- to the point you had suspected he had a crush on you during your training days. Reigniting those feelings with a smile and a few strategic touches should be more than enough to coax him into bed; sooner than later.

“Hey, Eren!” you chirped, approaching the shifter without entertaining another thought. He was conversing with his two closest friends- Mikasa and Armin when he was supposed to be training with Levi’s squad. “Mikasa, Armin,” you addressed, mainly to avoid being rude.

“Y/n, hey. How are you?” Eren grinned, his shoulders straightening as you stood before him, completing the subconscious triangle that he had made in the midst of conversation. You could feel Mikasa’s stare bear into your side profile, glaring. Her arms crossed before you approached, but her hands curled into firm firsts, tightening the longer you stood there. 

“Could you help me stretch?” You asked. “Yesterday’s training made me really stiff,” your words were half true since a lot of your body was sore and painful to maneuver, but it wasn’t from training. You were in pain from the toll that pleasuring Levi took as you vividly recalled his firm grip trapping your wrists down, and his body kept your leg up throughout the entire ordeal. 

A little white lie never hurt anyone.

“I would, but...” although you expected Eren’s response to be instantaneous, you had been wrong. Instead, the shifter looked from you to Squad Levi- where he needed to report to, conflicted between having free access to touching you and to his duty as a soldier. His will wasn’t that strong, given that he was only a pent-up eighteen-year-old guy when it came down to it. 

“Please,” you tilted your head, offering a meek smile to suggest that you were embarrassed to ask for help. “It’ll only be a few minutes.”

“I-” Eren, throat bobbed as he swallowed, blind to the concerned look that Armin was giving him. “Sure. What can I do?” He asked, his metaphorical armor falling to the ground. Confidence takes one a long way.

“Let’s go to the grass,” you suggested, gesturing to the large patch where other scouts were preparing for the day by also stretching, some in pairs.

“Alright- I’ll...see you guys at dinner,” Eren waved to Mikasa and Armin and quickly followed you as you led him to an empty spot. The spot was well in Levi’s view but far enough to give you plausible deniability. 

“We’ll save you a spot!” Armin yelled, his voice nearly out of earshot to you. He was referring to Eren, anyways. You sat with your class because you were the most familiar with them, not because you were a part of their close (top ten) band. 

“It’s mainly in my legs- I might’ve landed awkwardly at some point yesterday,” you mused, slowly laying down on the warm grass. The sun shined in your eyes, causing you to squint at Eren as he sank to his knees to avoid having too big of a gap between you. “Can you push my legs down?” you requested, bringing the soles of your brown boots together and a few inches away from your groin. 

“Oh, yeah. I’ve done this for..um, Krista, before...so I think I know what to do,” Eren’s face grew red as he kneed in front of you, his thighs clamping your feet in place, which kept your legs bent and fanned out. His hands were much larger than Levi’s and warmer, too, as they pressed down on the sides of your kneecaps, unintentionally teasing your lower thighs. Eren was too naive to know how to tease, and in all honesty, he was more gentle than you deserved. 

“That’s kind of you,” you commented, growing disinterested in the conversation and instead focusing on the delicious stretch that Eren was giving your hips and inner thigh muscles. He was staring down at his hands, focusing on the way your supple muscles moved and tensed each time he pushed down. You both knew that his hands were a little higher than they should’ve been for that particular stretch. “How about my quadriceps?” You gave Eren’s hands a soft tap, and he allowed you to move onto your stomach.

Eren’s breath hitched rather noticeably, and you imagined that his gaze was now trained on your ass, the definition of it clear from your tight uniform trousers. “You know what to do, right?” you asked, feigning complete ignorance as to what you were doing and how it affected him. 

“Oh- yeah, I do,” Eren moved slowly, his left hand coming down on your lower back first, flirting with the curve of your ass. His right took hold of your right kneecap. He slowly pulled the muscle upwards while pushing down on your back.

“Don’t let me kick you,” you joked to release a little of the building tension since your raised knee was bent under his lunging body, leaving the toe of your boot little ways under his chin. You rested on your elbows to support your upper body, taking the time to look to the side, where Levi watched you from his group. Watching was in fact, an understatement because his meticulous eyes narrowed, focused on the positioning of Eren’s hands. That expression caused satisfaction to bloom in your chest, the thrill comparable to the good pain that this stretch provided you.

Eren chuckled and, after a few more seconds, switched which leg he was stretching. You were flexible, and as tempted as you were to tell him that, you refrained. A little went a long way, and too much could scare him off. “I’m sure I could take you if you did,” Eren replied, pushing your back down firmly, causing your back to crack. It hurt, but ultimately, the sensation was euphoric- the closest to orgasm you’ve been in days.

The short whine that slipped past your lips made no effort to hide that fact. Although the sound (and volume) were unintentional, it caused a few people to look in your direction, driving your face to color. You pretended not to take notice of Levi’s glare and instead looked ahead of you as Eren switched legs. As shameless as you could be, even you had your limits, drawing the line around voyeurism. In an attempt to regain control of the situation, you laughed at yourself, praying that each chuckle sounded more natural than forced as you let your head dip.

“You really have done this before, haven’t you?” You teased, turning the heat back onto Eren, who faltered at the dirty insinuation. The noise of protest was more than enough confirmation that he hadn’t done anything beyond innocent stretching, which would make this much more fun for you. 

“That’s not-...come on, let’s get to our squads before Captain Levi gives me an earful,” Eren dismissed. You would have to be obtuse not to notice how his hands lagged in coming off your body- particularly the one that pushed down on your lower back. 

You were more likely to get an earful from Levi than Eren was, anyway.

“Oh, alright,” you said with a soft laugh, groaning as you got to your feet. The pain in your legs had yet to subside completely, but the dutiful stretching did help soothe it some. “Save me a seat in the mess hall later, yeah?” You requested, arching your eyebrows as you gave your shoulders a slow roll. 

“Uh- yeah, sure,” Eren stumbled over his words as you already began walking back towards your training squad, dispersing with the rest of the scouts that were using the large patch of grass to warm up for the hard day’s labor properly. 

. . .

Eren did indeed save a seat for you on his left side, Armin usually sat, but instead, the blond took the seat across from Eren without a problem. Mikasa merely watched you as you pulled out the chair, her face completely sober while you put your metal tray down in front of you with a soft clink.

“Hey guys,” you smiled, freshly showered, your hair tied back lazily. Despite having expended a year’s worth of energy on training in the heat, the food on your tray (a cut of bread and a little bowl of potato soup) was the last thing on your mind. Instead, you were more focused on formulating a plan.  A phase two, if you will.

“Oh- Y/n, hey,” Armin greeted you first, offering a wary smile as if he was trying to talk down a gunman. You weren’t sure if that was something to be offended by or not, seeing as Armin was a skittish soldier to begin with. 

“How did training go?” you decided to take his hesitance as a compliment, a testament to the strength of the faux certitude you expressed. Boldly sitting next to Eren was the key to this interaction, and if it went according to plan, you’d have him that night. That was record time when you compared it to the weeks of batting your eyelashes and flirting about you wasted on seducing Levi. Your crush on him was only physical, and he was the subject of the wettest of your dreams- seemingly impossible. The chase was supposed to be worth the quality of the catch, and yet, last night was the final straw.  “It wuzsh goof,” Eren answered for Armin, his mouth full with a bite of bread that he devoured. His cheeks bulged with it, but you suspected that he only intervened to remind you that he was there, as if you could forget. “Tirin-g,” he admitted, swallowing down the piece of it.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Mikasa admonished from her seat on Eren’s right. She never spoke to you directly unless she had to for the legion, and as much as you tried in the past, she made no effort to budge. “You’ll choke.” 

“I won’t choke, Mikasa. I’m not a kid,” Eren argued defensively, his voice rising to subtly accuse her of not trusting his abilities. He sent her a fast glare that you wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t looking at him.

“They were pretty hard on us today,” you purposely changed the conversation back to the original topic to fill the silence that followed the awkwardly unbalanced dynamic of Eren and Mikasa. “Squad Leader Finn had my group do several rounds of interval training before we even touched our gear,” you complained, shuddering at the memory of the rocky soil pressing into your palms each time you pushed your legs back to plank.  The skin was raw and pink, and it particularly stung when you exposed it to lukewarm shower water and bar soap.

“They’re just trying to keep us sharp. You know titans are always more active during the spring and summer,” Eren said, “Section Commander Hanji hasn’t let up with her experiments, though. She asked me for a lock of my hair this morning.”

“I think that’s pretty tame for Section Commander Hanji,” you joked, breaking off a flake of the crusty outer layer of the bread to prop in your mouth. It was primarily stale, but you appreciated the warmth that seeped on your tongue. 

“She could’ve made an even cut,” Eren mumbled as he finished off his cut of bread, gesturing to his sideburn, where there was indeed a chunk of his brown hair missing. 

You chuckled at the comment as some of the other cadets from your grade populated the long table- Connie Springer was making some shoddy impression of Commander Erwin. At the same time, Sasha Blouse nearly dropped her tray of food from laughter, utterly with Jean Kirsten rolling his eyes at their antics. Even Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover took to the isolated end of the table to speak to each other, albeit Reiner’s gaze traveling to Krista Lenz every handful of seconds. Your comrades were very predictable on a day-to-day basis, which was one of the many reasons why you weren’t close with most of them. People tended to bore you quickly, which left something to be desired, more often than not. 

The conversation at this dining table rarely included you, as you preferred to sit passively and wait for the exact moment to make your next move, which was slightly less predictable than your interaction that morning. 

You picked up your soup bowl, the metal circumference small enough for you to be able to wrap your hands around it and have your fingers touch. The soup itself was watered down and bland as you thoughtlessly swirled it around with the bottom of your spoon, frowning at it. Before your mother left, she made it with heavy cream and tiny slivers of smoked bacon. The only thing that had in common with the food sitting in front of you was the use of potatoes. 

Rather than dwelling on that woman, you turned your sights back to Eren. Getting him to want you was a goal you concluded that morning and now, you only needed him to act on it. Which he wouldn’t without your provoking him.

Purposely, you fumbled with the bowl of watery ‘soup’ and watched it fall, the warm contents spilling down your shirt and landing on Eren’s lap from your proximity. Since the rest of the table was engaged in watching Connie attempt to impersonate Oluo Bozado, a member of Levi’s Squad. Until the sound of your metal bowl hitting the floor (as well as your surprised yelp) caught their attention.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying any attention,” you explained, instantaneously rounding your eyes to make your apology seem entirely genuine. Mikasa glared at you before sharing a look with Armin, who widened his eyes to alert her that you had caught on. You did not attempt to press. 

Eren’s frustrated expression quickly melted as he looked from his lap to you. “It’s just soup, Y/n. It’s fine,” he grinned, evidently attempting to lift some of the guilt as you picked up a napkin to try to blot the soup on your shirt. 

“I don’t think it’ll stain if we clean it off now,” you put the crumpled napkin on your tray, next to the empty bowl. “Let’s go to the washroom,” you suggested, motioning to the way the napkins had only absorbed the soup rather than removing the dark grey stain that was left.

“You’re probably right about that,” Eren gave his lap one final look before standing up with you, your dominant hand coming to wrap around his wrist to establish physical contact. 

“We’ll be right back,” you chirped nonchalantly, quite literally, leading the titan shifter through the middle of the mess hall. A fast glance over your shoulder revealed Mikasa starting to get up to follow, but Armin gently patted her forearm to make her sit back down. Her instincts knew better than his, but she seemed to write hers off as her usual overprotective tendency for Eren. You doubted she wanted to be scolded for it again.

The unofficial ‘Superiors’ Table’ was the closest to the entrance of the mess hall, the table formation resembling a simple cafeteria in many rows of horizontal tables, which made it easy for Levi to watch you and Eren pass him. For a moment, you locked eyes with him and offered a chaste smile to deepen the blow. The way you held Eren’s wrist as he trailed you was a signature tell of a quickie- you’d done it to Levi countless times, and now he was recognizing it as a bystander.

A slight dip of your chin expressed that you were completely serious about using Eren to make him envious. If this didn’t teach him, then you were positive nothing would.

. . .

[duskroads]

Angie build update for the Donna cosplay Part 2

Part 1 Part 3

Ok so I probably should have updated this some time last week considering how much got done on this last week but I just did not have time til now.

This is probably gonna get long because of that so here’s a readmore

So last week I was visiting my family and it ended up being me and my dad working on this in his workshop for the most part (there’s other parts than just the above picture that didn’t take the whole week).

The picture above is the frame that I built, Dad has a ton of coat hangers that I stole both for this and for the arms and legs. 

The ones he has are this yellowy brassy colour from the drycleaners and I was like, perfect I can just use those they’d work really well colour wise for her joints. But dad pointed out that the colour was just a coating and he was worried that it wouldn’t do well in the oven, one heat test involving a meat thermometer and a very large heat gun he has for lighting his barbeque we found that while it looks fine in the heat, it get soft so it rubs right off afterwards. Cue me sanding a whole lot of coat hangers down.

The main thing that we were working on while I was there was the mechanisms for puppetting the head.

(See when Dad takes a photo he bothers to clear the space before hand lol)

The handle sits inside the bottom of the frame with the aluminum pipe we’ve been calling her spine goes up to just under the head, the fiddly bits beside it slot into the front of the pipe and go up the tube (they’re flipped over so it’s easier to see the moving parts).

The sideways Y shaped thing controls the up down movements of the head with my middle and ring fingers, it’s attached to the thick wire behind it with some springs you can’t see from this angle so the head’s resting position is more neutral. 

The piece above it opens and closes the mouth using the piece of fishing line it’s tied to.

I can turn her head back and froth by just rotating the entire spine.

We also got started on the bits that live inside the head.

Sadly we did not get a chance to finish either the controls or the head pieces before I had to leave, partially because the mechanisms were having more hiccups than we expected, and partially cause we just ran out of time. Dad thinks that the wire he was using is bending inside of the tube which might be what’s causing our issues. He’s going to finish it on his own and mail me the parts when he is done.

This means I can’t work on the head until I get those parts but I can start sculpting the rest of the body.

Before I left I also made hair for her. @cinnacorn taught me how to do this (she learned it from a number of doll repainters but hextian in particular, she says that his custom ursula doll video details it best) 

But you take Yarn, unravel it, put in around something in a larks head knot, brush it with a wire brush to really break it apart (if you’ve got a really heavy duty wire brush you can get away without unraveling it first, but if you’re blending colours it’s easier to space things out better if you unravel it), hit it with a straightening iron, trim off the knot, lay it flat on a silicone mat, put some hot glue at the top, while still hot use the edge of the mat to wipe away the excess glue, when it's dry trim away the excess,

Then do it 80+ times over the course of 6 and a half hours with two people working on it (thank you again Ele) to get enough for your giant doll head.

I’m using a light sage green and a grey brown to get that ‘this maybe was blonde once’ look, where it’s more streaky is going to be layered over so it blends better.

It looks super great and if you used colours that were closer together and actually styled it, it totally would look like a person’s hair. However this is a technique that clearly was meant for smaller doll’s heads, not ones as large as I’m making. As it is I ended up needing a bandaid halfway through cause the wire brush was eating the skin on my thumb from pushing the yarn through.

I also got fabric for both Donna and Angie, some from a shopping trip and some from my mother’s stash. (Some of that lace trim is in a Zellers container, which for those of you who aren’t Canadian, Zellers was a chain that closed in 2013 so that was a fun find)

Mom also has a stash of nail polish she uses as a craft supply. Me: Hey mom do you have any dark purple nail polish I can steal Mom: yeah it’s on the bookshelf in the guest room Me: Oh.

(90% of it is drug store stuff so not as expensive as you would think but still, that’s just the purple)

Mom also gave me a crackle paint that I need to experiment with so that’s going to be exciting.

I got home Sunday night and I spent most of the yesterday wrapping the frame in chicken wire.

I now hate chicken wire.

Today I managed to get two coats of the clay on the front and one on the back (need to do them half at a time cause it doesn’t fit standing up in my oven)

Still a few more layers to go, I need to bulid up her upper torso a bit and her shoulders need a lot more on top of them, I should have put more chicken wire there but I was worried about interfering with the spine. I have a piece of the tube to use as a mock up to make sure I don’t do that, but it’s a lot easier to break away the clay when it doesn’t have the wire in it.

I know her hips go really wide here but most of that’s going to be under her dress and I need that space to put my hand, and also so she can have a wide enough base to sit when I put her down.

I might close up her back a little bit more but the farther I go the less I can turn her head. It’s a trade off cause the fabric’s going to be tight on the body and then have just empty space there so it might be more noticeable if I leave it open. Still thinking on that one.

I’ve also cut to length and bent the coat hangers that will go inside her limbs but haven’t got any clay on them yet. A few of them I can get one loop on right now but the rest are going to have to wait until I’m putting it all together.

I did this by wrapping it around a giant nail that my dad and I found in his workshop that we cut down so I could put it in my suitcase, and then put it into a block of wood so I could clamp it to my table.

Then you use some pliers to bend the longer end of the wire so the circle is more aligned with it then wrap the shorter end around it a few times and trim it. I also filed down the sharp point where I cut it cause I’m worried about them catching on her clothing.

This is all fairly easy to do now, we will see how it is when I’m trying to do it with the rest of the limbs already on the wires.

Anyways that’s where I am for tonight, I have the rest of the week off so hopefully I’ll get most of the sculpting done and maybe (maybe) start sanding and varnishing it as well.