#we can choose where we might notice God's presence

[bethetiesthatbind]

just found out I'll never be abandoned by god which means he's always watching what I do and is pretty into it. you should come over.

just found out i've been abandoned by god which means he's not watching anything i do anymore. you should come over.

[mayaflowerxs]

BABY MAKING

Synopsis: What was meant to be a quick shopping trip to Target ends in you and your husband trying for a second baby.

Warning: Fluff / Humorish / Smut. Swear word usage, Est. Couple, Father!Jaehyun, pregnancy kink, daddy kink, and more!

A/N: Here’s a little something while I finish the requests sorry it’s taking a while, anyways enjoy! :)

Pairing: Jaehyun x fem reader

Your parents had insisted on looking over your daughter which you didn’t hesitate to agree. You had to admit, you love your daughter a blessing really but it’s gotten a point in your life where you just need that fresh breath of air. Even if it means your time be spent running errands. Much like you, your husband was on the same page. Endless nights from both work and parenting takes a toll on a person. The eye bags on both yours and his face have gotten visibly deeper along with the noticeable fatigue. And as you drop off your daughter with one last kiss to her adorable little head, the two of you were off.

Target. The store where there’s practically everything one could possibly need. You enter wearing baggy sweats and lose t-shirt. Hair in a messy bun as you start looking over your grocery list, for the lack of time the list has gotten rather long. Jaehyun by your side as he took the responsibility in maneuvering the cart. “Eggs, Milk, Diapers, Paper Towels…” as the two of you go aisle by aisle you felt yourself at ease for the time being. For a while it seemed like it was only you two. Just how it was only a year ago. It still feels odd to think you’re a mother now. Staring down at your hand and seeing the pearly white Diamond glimmering on your ring finger, shifting your eyes and seeing Jaehyun’s as well. Feeling his elbow nudge you, you look up at him. A soft smile on his face as he tilts his head at you. “You okay? You kinda spaced out on me.” Chuckling lightly you nod, “I’m good. You got the formula?” “Right here. Oh look they have my socks I wear.” Letting him walk off to inspect the aisle of socks, you check off the formula on your list. Waiting for your husband to choose a pair of socks took quite a while, too long you might say. And just before you’re about ready to hurry him up you hear the cry of a baby behind you.

Turning and seeing a mother had been strolling by, picking up her son as she consoles him. You can’t help but smile at the scene, until you stopped. With wide eyes, you turn to face your husband. “Jae gimme your hoodie.” Not turning to face you he responds, “Baby didn’t I say to bring a sweater? I told you it was gonna be cold.” He snorts wincing when you leave a rather hard smack on his bicep. Looking back, his eyes widen when he sees you clenching your chest. “Are you…?” “Yes Jae, I’m lactating!” The sound of a baby’s cry has left a wet patch on your through your shirt.

Yay on motherhood.

Quick to take his hoodie off, he covers you from any passerby’s. “Can’t believe this is happening.” Hearing Jaehyun chuckle, you send him a glare as you are left uncomfortably soaked. “Lets just get the rest of the groceries and get out of here.” You tell him annoyedly, and without another word he grabs his socks and quickly puts it in the cart.

With every passing second spent in Target was just another second your poor breasts were being filled with milk. And as the thought came in, the realization settled. “God I forgot the breast pump is broken.” You say, “It’s alright we can go grab another it’ll be the last thing before checking out.” Nodding the two of you make your way out. About to enter the aisle you’re forcibly knocked into another person walking out in a hurry. Clutching your chest in pain by the sudden pressure. “Excuse you!” Jaehyun shouts when he sees the woman simply walk by without even acknowledging your presence. Rolling his eyes at her, his irritated expression changes immediately of one of worry. “You okay baby?” Out of words to say from the pain you simply nod and wave him off. Instead you merely point at the breast pump. “Right.” Grabbing it and putting it in the cart, he wraps an arm around your waist and helps you move. By the time the two of you made it outside, you didn’t wait for Jaehyun and instead grabbed the box with the pump and ran straight to the passengers seat.

A grin on his face as he watched you, wearing slides and holding your chest as you struggled to open the door, looking up at him and seeing he had the keys held up for you to see. “Open it!” He hears you yell in which he snorts and does so. By the time he’s done filling the trunk with the grocery bags, he gets in and sees you almost filling a bottle full of breast milk. “Did not think it’d get swollen so quickly.” You moan in pain as you try to massage the tender breast. Sending you a sympathetic smile he leans in and kisses you. “Love you.” He mumbles on your lips. “Yeah yeah-“ You say trying to not put much attention to the obvious heat your face was getting from his words. Years later and still he had you a blushing mess. Hearing him laugh, he leans further and presses a kiss on your boob. Buckling in, he turns on the ignition and looks over at you. “Want Starbucks? Heard it’s okay to have a bit of caffeine while breast feeding…I can even get you a cake pop.” Looking at him, you contemplate it for a bit before nodding. Smiling, he rests a hand on your thigh and gives it a soft squeeze before backing out of the parking lot.

By the time you’re in the drive thru and waiting in the long line of cars, Jaehyun can’t help but revert his eyes over at you. The pumping is rather loud and after a while it’s gotten annoying with his hoodie constantly in the way so you pushed it up and now have your entire chest out in the open. Thank god for the tinted windows you managed to convince him to get. Swallowing as he bounces his leg quicker than ever. “Geez what’s gotten you so fidgety?” You joke at him, completely oblivious to the effect you have on him. Missing the hard gulp he takes, he doesn’t have time to respond to you before he’s having to drive forward and roll his window down. The man about to read him his bill, gets his words caught in his throat when he noticed you. Jaehyun whips his head around and grabs his hoodie and tugs it down. A whine escapes you as it caused the bottle to tip and have some of the milk spill.

“Jae-“ Face palming when you see the poor boy’s face red and hot you look down. Resting a hand on the arm rest covering your view of him. “Sorry about that.” Jaehyun can merely say before handing him his card. Clearing his throat awkwardly, the cashier mutters out a low, ‘it’s okay’ before swiping the card.

“You could have at least warned me.” You tell him the second the window is up and getting out of the drive thru. “I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking how could I?” “What, are you saying my breasts are too distracting?” You ask him as you take a bite out of your cake pop. He goes to respond but is cut off when you groan in pain again. “God I don’t understand how my girls can work so fast. I’m already full again!” Hearing the sound of the pump again, Jaehyun takes a quick glance over and seeing your breasts were out in the open again. Feeling the familiar tightness in his pants he shifts in his seat uncomfortably before clearing his throat. “Babe I know it’s something out of your control but-“ he barely manages to get out as his hand grips on the steering wheel, his other on your thigh riding higher up your leg.

“Oh my god are you seriously turned on right now?” You say surprisingly. “Can you blame me? You know I’m a titties man.” Slapping his chest, he smirks and glances over at you briefly. “Gosh when aren’t you horny?” “Hey I didn’t see you complaining the night our daughter was conceived.” Mouth slightly parted you squint your eyes at him. “My period was close to kicking in, my hormones were running high.” “Yeah,” he scoffs. “Hormones alright let’s blame it on that.” He finishes while trailing higher until they rest on top of your clothed cunt. Gasping, you grip his wrist. “Still sensitive as always, shall I blame that on the hormones as well?”

Smirking when he sees you spread your legs he begins to rub circles. A small moan falls off your lips, “Of course I’m sensitive, I did just shit out a baby a few months ago.” “Birthed babe, you birthed our daughter.”

“Yeah well when you’re in a state of pure agony you no longer give a shit if you were constipated or giving birth either way, you’re being ripped apart regardless.”

Lifting your hand, he takes it up to his lips and presses a kiss. “And I’m so proud of you for that. I don’t say it enough but you really are so strong and admirable, I could never and it’s why I love you so much.” Sending him a soft smile, you pick up your drink and take a sip of it. For a while it was silent the car ride home, and it isn’t until you’re only a block away does he speak up.

“I’m still horny by the way.”

The groceries go ignored the second Jaehyun parks in the drive way. Carrying you inside the empty house his focus is on you. Sliding his tongue in your mouth as you run your hands through his hair. Setting you on to the closest furniture, the couch. He begins to take off his shirt. Tossing it aside as he leans back in to attach his lips with yours. Large hands roaming up your stomach, lifting your shirt to trace the beautiful stretch marks he’s fallen in love with. A memory of when you were pregnant with his daughter. Finding his way to your breasts where you let out a loud moan the second he punches your nipples. Trailing gentle kisses on them and feeling himself get harder when he notices a small streak of your milk fall down your chest. The tightness in his jeans is painful, and his grunts are heard throughout the house the second your hand is placed on top of his bulge.

“Please baby.” “What is it my love?” He curls a finger underneath your chin and tilts his head. “Mhm?” “Let me make you feel good.” Pupils dark and dilated, he finds no reason to object. Standing up and unbuckling his belt, he hissed when the cool air hits his hard cock. Soft hands fisting him as you kitten lick him. Too slow for his taste, and so he grabs your chin and gets you to open. Grabbing his dick and propping it in your mouth. “Good girl.” He groans when he feels your tongue salivate him. Taking him deeper and quickening your pace. Bobbing your head as you gag every now and then. Music to his hears, enamored with your beautiful eyes that look up at him for approval. “Taking me so well, keep sucking pretty girl.” Fisting your hair in his hold his breathing becomes uneven the sloppier you suck him. Pulling away and a long stripe of your saliva connecting you to him. He’s red and veiny and it only makes you want to keep sucking him more. Until he’s completely empty. Jaehyun was right, hormones wasn’t the reason why you yearned for him so much. You being on your period wasn’t why you got pregnant. You got pregnant because you want him, everyday. A man so appealing like him is impossible to not be attracted.

The man standing before you yearns for you just as much. Seeing you on your knees taking his big cock is enough to fuck you with his babies any time of the day. With how sex craved the two of you are, he’s surprised it took you guys this long to finally get pregnant. The slurps and gargles are heard bouncing off the walls, grunts and groans coming from your husband add on to it. His abs are clenched when he feels the familiar feeling beginning to form. Throwing his head back, he starts fucking your throat. With need and desperation he’s trying to find his climax. “Shit!” He can’t help but swear when you suck in your cheeks. The tightness around his dick, your warm mouth and talented tongue is enough to throw him over the edge. He feels himself explode in your mouth, shooting it all down your throat. Shivers coursing throughout his skin when he feels you hum on his dick. Watching you swallow every single drop. A small twinkle in your eyes as a bit of his cum falls from the crevice of your mouth. Leaning in to kiss you, he tastes the saltiness of himself. “Not done with you yet.” He murmurs on top of your lips.

He was right. For the time your parents had your daughter, Jaehyun took it as an opportunity to get back some husband and wife bonding time. He missed your touch, and even though the cuddling and make outs are just as good he still craved you. Seeing you pumping milk did things to him and even though it pained him to see you in labor tired and in pain it only made him want to love you a thousand times more. Your round belly and the after glow of postpartum birth, he feels like a dog thinking this way but he can’t help but want to fuck another baby in you. So soon but he wants to, needs to.

The two of you always spoke of how many kids you’d want and even though Jaehyun was the one who wanted a big family in comparison to you, the two of you agreed you at least wanted the kids to be close in age. Which is why he has no problem getting you nice and spread on the kitchen counter. Not caring you were in the middle of putting away the milk you had just pumped, and instead focuses on making you come over and over again with his tongue. Get you nice and soak so you’re ready to take him for countless rounds it takes to get you nice and stuffed. “Jae!” You hiccup, he doesn’t remove his mouth. He doesn’t even flinch, instead he buries his face further into your pussy. Eating you like a starved man and grunting each time your nails tugged a little too hard on his hair. “Baby it’s too much!” You throw your head back on the table. Completely naked for him just the way he likes it, hickies left all over your skin trailing them down to your sensitive pussy where your legs are trying their hardest not to close. Your husband’s large hands keeping them spread as he spits on your clit before diving right back in.

Your breath hitches as you shake in his hold. Another orgasm is ripped out of you, tears falling down your face. Jaehyun can feel you throbbing on his tongue, your sweet juices hitting his tastebuds. Finally, he pulls away. A shimmer around his mouth as he pulls you closer to the edge of the table. Leaning in to press a firm kiss on your lips, muffling the loud moan of yours when he forced himself inside you. No matter how much scissoring and tongue fucking he’s done you simply refuse to get used to his size. Your husband’s too big and it’s what drives you into subspace. He knows that, which is why he fucks you for hours if he really wanted to. Until he sees your pretty tears and face lost in pure bliss does he let up. Your husband has insane stamina, he can go for so long without ever climaxing. That’s unless you blow him, then he turns putty for you.

“So big!” You gasp out, eyes shut but Jaehyun doesn’t like that. No, you can’t lose yourself right now. He needs your eyes on him, to see how beautifully connected you two are. How well you take him, tapping your cheek he presses a soft kiss on your cheekbone. “Open those pretty eyes for me mama.” Mewling, he doesn’t give you time to disobey him. Lightly slapping the side of your face to get you to look at him and when you do he can’t help but grin. You looked ethereal in your current position, seeing you shining in sweat, chest covered in his love marks and lips swollen he can practically go feral for you. So he does. Gripping your legs and hovering them over your hips he begins to ram into you. The claps much louder along with your moans. Breath hitching each time he hits your gspot, your hands quick to grab onto his forearm digging your nails into his skin. Giving him space to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck. His favorite place to stuff his face in second to stuffing it in your sopping pussy.

You feel his hot tongue running up your neck, shivering at the sensation especially when your husband doesn’t show signs in slowing down. Your walls gripping him tightly the harder he pounds into you. It felt good, so good your eyes began to tear up. Squelches were heard as your stomach kept clenching. When he pulls away, his hair is in the way. His eyes slightly covered, looking down he lets out a loud grunt upon seeing the prominent bump near your lower abdomen. “Where you feel me?” He huskily asks. “So deep!” Grabbing your hand, he leads it down to your stomach and has it lying on top of the print of his tip. “Feel me here baby?” “Yes!” Throwing your head back when he stops his movement to focus on thrusting further. “How about now?”

You couldn’t answer, you felt full and pure bliss. And as much as you’d like to indulge in the pleasure, your husband has a need for you to remind him how good he makes you feel. “Answer me.” “God I feel you in my stomach Jae!” It’s all he wanted to hear to get back to fucking you. Plunging in and out, quick motions before he pulls out and turns you around. Despite the insane amount lust he has, he takes the time to grab a pillow and rest it under your hip. Gentle to pull your hair away from your face and use it as leverage when he goes back to ramming inside you.

“I’m so close!” He’s gone silent, and you know once he is it means he too is close. And as the two of you are hitting your climax, you’ll soon come to find out this won’t be the last of it today.

Your parents are meant to drop your daughter off soon, in an hour precisely when the clock strikes 9 but Jaehyun wasn’t worried. He’s taken the initiative to have sex with you on all the surface inside the house. He can’t quite explain where this sudden horniness came from, maybe the breast pumping truly was a turn on for him and he just now acted upon it. It only took about half up to an hour before Jaehyun attached himself back on you. Wrapping his arms, pressing heated kisses to the nape of your neck, rubbing his groin up against your ass before he bends you over whatever surface nearest to you. By the time night came, your and his hair looked completely disheveled along with bruised lips. Necks covered in dark colors and both reeking of sex.

Couch, bed, kitchen counter, wall, door it was endless and he was sure he had gotten you pregnant by now. You guys went at it like a bunch of bunnies no way he didn’t knock you up. And as he lied on the bed watching you get ready to shower, the thought of you wet and naked had him getting hard again. Not even uttering a single word before he follows you in. “Excuse me?” Not responding, he closes the door and begins to take off his shirt. Revealing his toned chest to be covered in scratch marks, fainted lipstick and hickies. “One more won’t hurt right?” He raises a brow and smiles mischievously. “Are you trying to impregnate me with twins or something?” Shrugging, he picks you up and settles you on the counter. Pressing his lips on top of yours, he helps take off your oversized tee. “Would it be so bad?”

Giggling, you open your legs to let him fit right between them. Seeing his eyes darken as he leans in to start fondling with your breasts. Gasping when you feel yourself starting to lactate. “Jae!” Holding you still he continues to suck. Your tits were sensitive, you couldn’t hold still but this never faltered the man in front of you. Instead he grew determined and as he tastes your sweet milk he knew, there was absolutely no way he could wait who knows how many days before he can have you to himself again. Play with you as much as his heart desires. So, with reluctance he pulls away. Watching a few drops fall on your stomach. Leaning in to lick it up, you feel yourself begin to get excessively wet again. Playing with his soft hair, your intrusive thoughts wanting you to simply push his head a bit further to where you most need him.

“Be right back, need to make a call. Get in while I do that.” He says hurriedly. Curling a finger around your chin, he pulls you in for another wet sloppy kiss before walking out the bathroom. With a huff, you do as told and get into the shower. And while the bathroom steamed up, waiting impatiently for your husband to return and fuck you. Jaehyun quickly picked up his phone and dialed the familiar phone number. One ring, two rings and on the third they picked up.

“Afternoon Mrs. Y/l/n, so sorry to bother but something came up and I don’t think we’ll be home tonight. You wouldn’t mind if she stayed with you for the night right?”

[aectpen]

Love Fades ° Lee Heeseung

genre: angst, hurt no comfort

word count: 0.8k

pairing: lee heeseung x gn reader

you had been sitting on this feeling for a while, and honestly, it was getting hard to breathe. you and heeseung had confessed to each other two years ago—one day, he was just your best friend, and the next, he was your boyfriend. it felt like a fairytale, and you both thought there was no way your friendship could be ruined. after all, you were perfect for each other, right? right?

but things changed. heeseung started getting annoyed at your presence. every time you suggested doing something together, there was this tension in the air, like he was holding back something he wanted to say. and when you did manage to hang out, he’d suddenly claim he was tired and cut the night short, leaving you feeling more confused than before.

tonight was no different. you both sat in silence, watching a movie, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. you noticed how heeseung left a huge space between you, almost like he was trying to create a barrier. finally, you scooted over, closing the distance, hoping for a little warmth and connection. but when you did, he leaned away from you, discomfort written all over his face. it felt like a punch to the gut.

“do you have to be this fucking clingy?” he finally snapped, breaking the silence.

you froze, taken aback. “do you have to be so harsh?” you shot back, trying to mask the hurt with anger.

“it’s annoying, yn. am i not allowed to say that out loud? god.” he rolled his eyes, frustration spilling over. “it’s just… you’ve changed, and honestly, it feels like being your boyfriend isn’t what I want anymore.”

your heart dropped, disbelief washing over you. “what do you mean? we were doing good before.”

“good?” he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “it’s not like it used to be. I miss the days when we were just friends, when you were carefree and fun. now, it feels like I’m constantly walking on eggshells, worried about how you’ll react to everything I say.”

“so you wish I was still that person?” you asked, your voice cracking. “is that what you want?”

he hesitated, and for a moment, you thought he might actually say something comforting. but the silence hung heavy between you, filled with unspoken words. “what do you want, heeseung?” you pressed, your heart racing.

he stayed quiet, the tension building as you waited for him to find the words. finally, he took a deep breath, his expression somber. “I think… we’ve grown apart. I don’t know if we should even be friends anymore.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. “you don’t mean that,” you whispered, disbelief mixing with a rush of panic. “we can work through this. we can go back to how it was.”

“it’s not that simple,” he replied, his voice devoid of warmth. “I care about you, but it’s different now. I can’t keep pretending everything’s okay when it feels like we’re just holding onto something that isn’t there anymore.”

tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried to process what he was saying. “so, what? you want to throw away everything we built together?”

“maybe we need to,” he said, his tone firm yet resigned. “it’s hard to see you like this, and I don’t want to keep dragging this out if it’s not working. I don’t want to hurt you, but I think we need to let go.”

the ache in your chest felt unbearable, a hollow pit where your love for him had flourished. “you’re really choosing to walk away from our relationship, from everything?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“it’s what’s best for both of us,” he replied, his gaze steady but filled with sadness. “I hope one day you can understand that.”

as he turned away, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. losing him wasn’t just about losing a boyfriend; it was losing your best friend, the one person you’d shared countless laughs and late-night talks with. the silence wrapped around you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and cold. you stood there, staring at the closed door, your heart racing and your mind spiraling. how did everything go so wrong?

you wanted to scream, to tell him how much you missed the way things used to be, how you’d give anything to go back to those carefree days. but instead, you were left with this unbearable ache, a hollow feeling in your chest that refused to fade. it hit you hard that the laughter and warmth you once shared had faded into distant memories, replaced by this painful distance. love had morphed into something heavy, and now you were standing here, wondering how to pick up the pieces of a friendship that felt irreparably broken.

[lanitalay]

Among Flames and Starlight Chapter 10

a/n: here it is!!! thank you for being patient! this is another fun one. Hold it tight because chapter 11 will be Angsty.

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.5k

Other Chapters

After days, the rain eventually cleared up. The ground was safe for riding and Irene spent most of her time in the studio. In only a few short days the recital would take place. She convinced Lucien to build a small stage for the barn. Eris helped too. She wasn’t used to his presence so she became hyper aware of everything he did. Whenever he was around, Lucien told Jesminda it was better if she stayed away.

Irene questioned his decision and during one of their rides he explained “it’s not that I don’t trust Eris. I actually trust him the most out of all of my brothers. But Jesminda is a villager and if Beron found out-” 

“Would Eris tell him?” 

“He wouldn’t say anything, but Beron has ways of making us talk. So the less he knows the better.”

“Did I do wrong in telling him about the studio?”

“That's different, you are not a villager.”

“But my students are and so are their parents.” 

They rode in silence for a few minutes until Lucien figured out what to say next. “Eris knows how to deal with Beron, he wouldn’t do anything that put so many fae at risk.” 

“But Beron forced him to marry me, he must not be that good at dealing with him.” 

They didn’t speak the rest of the ride. 

Eris dreaded these meetings. Once, every thirty days, he would have to enter his father’s study and give reports. Usually, Beron asked about the tributes collected from the villages, any news from the emissaries he kept in contact with, Lucien and Mora. Recently, he began asking about Irene and her whereabouts. “Where does she ride off to? When can I expect an heir? Is she causing trouble?” None, he knew that none of those questions were to be taken at face value. He was rubbing salt in the wound. Reminding him what happened the last time he crossed his High Lord. Eris kept his answers ambiguous. “Around the house grounds. When the Mother and the Gods choose to bless us. No.” 

He would never, in a million years, think to tell him how a tentative... something bloomed between them. How, he didn’t know exactly when, he stopped avoiding her. How she was doing more for the court than any of them had done in decades. Because Irene was not meant as a companion or an asset. Her sole purpose in Autumn was to remind Eris who was in charge. 

The lordling did not want to think of what would happen if Beron felt she no longer served that purpose. 

After giving the regular answers and finishing the reports, Eris decided he would stay away from her for a while. No willing to tempt the fates. 

He went about his usual business. Collecting tributes, dealing with confidential correspondence and keeping Lucien out of Beron’s grasp. When he had a respite, he would seclude himself in the cottage he set aside for the hounds, not wanting to risk the library. But reading was difficult with the dogs running around and interrupting any level of concentration Eris might have achieved. 

He didn’t like this. All his life had been spent in burdened solitude and he ached for… he did not know what exactly he ached for. Only that his heart felt hollow.

“I know he’s your husband but I’m glad he backed off, I missed these little critters way too much.” Jesminda laughed as she watched the youngest dancers rehearse in woodland creature costumes. There were two squirrels, three rabbits, four foxes and one moose who led the dance. 

Irene’s first instinct was to correct her friend. She wanted to say “he’s not really my husband Jes, he’s just the male I was forced to marry.” But they were not alone and anything she said would be repeated by her students, and their families, so she offered a diplomatic answer. “He helped with the stage and the floors and windows. Did you notice? No more splinters.” 

“The floors are nice, and the stage turned out great. Shame we can’t tell more people about the recital.”

“It is.” When the rehearsal was over Irene and Jesminda began decorating the stage. They were putting up a curtain that Mora made with a fine red velvet fabric and embroidered with gold thread. “It looks like flames if the light catches it just right,” the lady explained to Irene when she first saw it. It was a beautiful work clearly made by hands who had perfected the craft for centuries. Irene thought it looked out of place in the shabby barn. 

Then the females began creating the rudimentary set design. They cut branches from nearby trees and created a make-shift forest inside the studio. It would be a pain to clean up later. 

The night before the recital, Irene passed out in the studio. She told Lucien to take Jesminda to her house while she finished some last minute details. The curtains needed to be pleated just right, the costumes had to be labeled, the floor had to be swept and mopped, the chairs needed to be set up, the piano needed to be moved and the list seemed to go on forever. Lucien and Jesminda helped her until the sun went down and they were hungry and cranky. 

“You two go eat, I’ll stay and finish up.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes! You’ve been complaining non-stop and I need to focus.” 

The couple winnowed away and Lucien told Irene he would be back for her.

Irene had no desire in riding in the dark and she figured she would be back in the studio as soon as the sun came up so when it was well past midnight and Lucien did not show up, she took her cloak and threw it on some hay left behind in one of the storage compartments and willed herself to rest for a while. 

“Irene?” 

The witchling shot awake at the sound of the familiar voice. Her heart thundered in her chest and she clutched her throat as a sharp gasp escaped her. 

“Holy gods!” Eris stood by her feet, eyebrows lifted in slight worry. 

“It's only me.” 

“You scared the daylights out of me.” 

“Let 's go.” 

“What?” 

“I’m taking you back to the house.” 

Irene began to stand up and put on her cloak. “Where’s Lucien?”

“He’s at the house.” 

“He forgot me, didn’t he?” 

“Yes.” Irene groans and holds out a hand so Eris can winnow them away. But he walks away, towards the stage. “It came together nicely.”

She follows him “it really did, the kids are very excited. Are you coming?” She regretted the question the second it slipped out. He shouldn’t come. Not with Jesminda also being there. 

Thankfully, he shook his head “I have to go to the Spring Court.” 

She stiffened, “why?”

“Now that Tamlin is High Lord it’s important to establish if he’ll be a… nuisance.” 

“I see.” They stood like that for a moment, staring at the stage. Eris thought of all he wanted to do for his court. He thought of how the last centuries of his life had been spent in a never ending pursuit of survival. Doing everything he could to keep his mother and brothers safe, to keep himself together so the house doesn’t succumb to Beron’s fist. 

“Irene?” 

“Hm?” 

“I’d like to build a better court.”

“Oh, well alrigh-”

“I want to do it with you.” 

“What?’

He turned to face her. Irene noticed his shoulders were tense. His hands were tightly clasped at his back. “I have been thinking about our predicament and have come to the conclusion that we want similar things.” 

“And what do you think I want?” 

“Independence, safety, to belong. We can work together.”

“In what way?”

“You’ll be the visionary and I’ll take over the logistics.” 

“Because I can’t figure out logistics?”

He rolled his eyes. “Because I would have never thought to turn an abandoned barn into a studio, because you come from a place that has life and culture and community.” 

“Where does that leave Beron?” 

He doesn’t answer. 

“And your brothers?” 

Nothing. 

“Eris, this is- if anyone hears us we’re dead, you know that.” 

He closes the distance between them, so close that if Irene were to take a deep breath her chest would graze his. “No one else is here.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing.” Her words are knives and her stillness a slashing. He knew what she meant. He was still the monster in her story. The horrendous captor. And he understood why. He, more than anyone else, knew what she was feeling and thinking because he had thought and felt the same until recently. Yet, there was hurt coursing through his veins. He couldn’t help himself. The day had been long and arduous. Filled with meetings that dredged on and on. Beron was acting up again, how he got when things were quiet and he could see an opening to move pawns in his favor. Lucien was gone most days and Mora was worried. Eris was worried too. The world was collapsing his lungs and Irene, unwittingly, sat atop it.

So Eris, stoic Eris crumbled in front of the flame embroidered curtains. “Is being married to me really that bad?” 

Irene was confused by the change in his energy. One second he was fine, if a bit tired and the next he had sunken. Eyes glistening with an ache she was familiar with. “What? Eris-”

“I know we got off on the wrong foot but I’ve given you space and I never question how you spend your time-”

“Where is all of this coming from?”

It was like he caught himself slipping. He straightened away from her and regained his composure. “Just consider what I said.” Then he stretched a hand and waited for her to grab it so he could winnow and call an end to the day. But Irene crossed her arms instead. 

“Did something happen that I should know about?” 

He sagged, the day dragged on. 

“No, everything is fine. Let 's go.” 

“Then why are you acting so strange? You’ve been weird for weeks.”

“I’ve only been nice to you-”

“Exactly!” 

“Irene.”

“Just tell me.” 

“I don’t want to fight.”

“Tell me.”

“No, you’re right. Working together would imply too much risk. Best we keep our distance.” 

Something clicked for Irene. “I- you haven’t been bad. I didn’t mean to insinuate that.”

“Just forget it and let's go, please.” Something strained in her heart. He was being vulnerable. 

“I think this court could become great, in the right hands.” Eris didn’t respond. “I don’t know what you are planning and I think it's best if you spare me the details but I’ll help you make Autumn better.” 

“Do you really believe it could get better?” Now it was Irene that stepped forward, a gentle hand landed on his bicep then an encouraging squeeze. 

“With all my heart.” That was his undoing, the unraveling of his paper thin mask. Irene grunted when Eris engulfed her in a crushing hug. He was everywhere. Pressing against her chest, filling up her nostrils, clouding her sight, breathing raggedly. Eris knew what this moment meant.

In his arms he held the future, bright and beautiful. 

“Alright kids let's get into positions!” The curtain was down, the dancers were dressed and the barn was packed with excited parents. Little creatures hopped into their places and got into their starting poses. Jesminda was trying her best to help the moose with his too heavy antlers. Irene saw what was happening and rushed to see what she could do. It was mere seconds before the show was due to begin so she ripped off some of the points to reduce the weight and sent the dancer to his place. 

Jesminda and Irene stayed backstage, off to the side so no one could see them and watched the show begin. 

In addition to the usual piano, there was a violinist and a singer for some of the songs. The barn was dark, faelights only illuminating the stage. The kids ran through their choreography with minor slip ups. An occasional missed turn and a slight trip were the only imperfections Irene could detect. The audience was in fits of laughter and oo’s and aah’s as the recital went on. By the end, Irene stepped out, took a bow thanking the crowd and the performers for making the night unforgettable.

Eris was pacing in his rooms. He had been walking from one end of the space to the other for hours. Irene agreed to work with him. That meant that Beron had to be dealt with swiftly. He spent the last day thinking of possible solutions but each of them involved the support of another court, a third party who could justifiably eliminate Beron and clear the path for Eris and Irene. Maybe Tamlin could-

A soft, shy knock on his door beckoned him. When he swung it open Irene was there, beaming. “Can I come in?” 

Eris stepped aside. He felt on edge, she had never seen his room. She practically skipped inside. Her energy was contagious but it did not mix well with the stress and anxiety he had been feeling just seconds before. She was bouncing, her eyes were smaller than usual, the smile she wore caused them to crinkle at the edges. Eris wanted to throw up. 

“The recital was a total success! It would have never turned out so amazing if it weren’t for the stage and the curtains and the new floors. So I just came by to thank you.” 

“I’m glad it went well.” 

“I’ve- I’ve never done something like this before. You know? Back in Velaris I was relegated to random tasks and just helped out wherever I could but this little school… I think it can really be something, Eris.” 

“So do I.” 

She frowned. “What 's wrong?”

“Nothing you should know about.” Realization ghosted her features. “Understood.” 

“Is there anything else?” 

“Yes,” she said and reached into the satchel she carried and pulled out a small box wrapped in red fabric. “One of the mothers baked cakes for everyone in the crew as a thank you. She was there when you helped with the waltz and the stage. The short lady with dark brown hair? Anyways, she baked one for you and asked me to deliver it so here you go.” 

“Oh, thank her for me.” He said as he accepted the gift. “Will do.” She looked at him expectantly. 

“What?”

“Are you not going to open it?”

“Not right now.”

“Oh come on! The night calls for a celebration, I brought mine, look” she pulled out another identical box “and Lucien ditched me and Mora’s asleep. You’re the only friend I have that’s awake.” 

Eris coughed, choking on air. Friend. 

“You- We’re friends?” 

“Well, yes. I wouldn’t call us acquaintances at this point.” She laughed as she spotted a table and sat down with her cake.

It was the strangest thing. For the life of him, Eris could not remember the last time someone claimed him as a friend. He wasn’t entirely sure he ever had one. Maybe his brothers were his friends at one point, but not anymore. 

He followed her and opened his own box. Before they began eating, Irene raised the first bite on her fork and toasted “to brighter days.”

taglist: @sidthedollface2 @acourtofbatboydreams

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

15. I can aee you but you cant see me, Ghost Peter and Aro; further shenanigans

This is very prefect for this au~

On with the fic!

--

Aro was becoming better at sensing Peter's presence whenever the ghost was nearby. He often unconsciously projected his thoughts and left rooms feeling cold, even if the vampires of the villa couldn't really sense it. Aro, however, was ancient, and could sense when the temperature was off, so he knew that Peter was close when the room seemed off.

That, and the human servants complained.

However, Peter was also learning to control his ghostly abilities, making it a bit harder to indicate where he was located when he put the effort in to hide.

Cold rooms were suddenly normal temperatures again, loud, obnoxious thoughts were cut off, and the sense that someone else was in a room was muted.

Aro found it both fascinating and irritating that Peter was getting better at hiding. That meant his stupid need to cause trouble was increasing.

"At this point," Aro heard one of his council members sneer to another, "we might as well bring in a bloody priest in here. Might as well attempt an exorcism, that's probably the best we can manage with... whatever this nonsense is."

"I agree, but Master Aro will not allow such a thing." The other one said, it appeared that neither of them seemed to notice that Aro was within earshot. "It's clear we have a problem, possibly something supernatural, and he chooses to play ignorant."

Aro frowned at the casual slander. He was not ignorant nor playing at it, he chose simply to ignore Peter to teach him a lesson to not bother him while he was working. Peter, obviously, was not a fan, and went off to bother others on the villa's grounds.

He'd deal with these two later, for now, he needed to return to work.

As he walked through the old, marble halls, Aro heard something metallic hit the ground. He turned to see what looked to be a ring on the floor, spinning a few times before dropping completely.

There was another metallic ting and it was a brooch down another area of the hall.

"Thievery is beneath you, Peter." Aro commented as he picked up the ring, noting that it belonged to one of the two who had been talking about him. He decided not to say anything about it.

There was a laugh from somewhere in the hall, but it was hard to pinpoint. Aro didn't have time for this. "Come out, Peter, no need for childish games. Where are you?"

The laughter got louder, still hard to specify where it came from exactly. "I can see you," came a sing-songy response, "but you cant see me!"

The vampire rolled his eyes and carried on with his walking. "This is beneath you, just come out and follow me, I know that is what you wish to do."

"Uhg!" Peter was suddenly at his side, popping up out of the floor. "God, you're in such a bitchy mood, you're not fun! At least throw me a bone, I stole those off the guys who were shit talkin' you!"

"Yes, thank you for defending my owner with the time-honored craft of pickpocketing."

"You're welcome!"

"But I am not in the mood for your brand of chaos right now. So, if you want my attention today, behave yourself, and do not try and pull your newly found need to be as quiet as an empty cemetery."

Peter pouted. "You'll give me attention later then?"

"Yes, but leave me out of your nonsense today, alright? Go... bother someone somewhere else on the villa, try to see if your temperature control can be used for better uses."

The ghost smirked, punching Aro in the shoulder, even though it felt more like icy silk passed through him. "I'll hold you to that! I'll be back to have you lavish attention all over me. Maybe I can get a better reaction outta those twins with what I tried to do to you!"

And he was gone, through a wall, leaving just the faintest hint of chill in his wake. Aro shook his head, he was in for a long evening, he was sure of it. He wondered if Peter was going to attempt for of this childish nonsense in the evening, forgetting what Aro said. It was very likely.

[firstumcschenectady]

“For Everyone Born” based on Luke 14:7-14

Today, in our gospel lesson, we hear Jesus giving dinner party advice. Which is, let's be honest, kind of unexpected from Jesus. To be fair, the Jesus Seminar thinks this narrative is Luke's creation – it fits both Hebrew literature and Jesus's priorities but seems a little bit too much like a narrative device. That said, it does fit both the values we hear throughout the Bible and from Jesus, so I think it is plenty worthy of our attention.

According to my beloved commentary A Social Science Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels:

“Dinners were important social occasions that were used to cement social relations. … It was very important who was invited. Moreover, accepting a dinner invitation normally obligated the guest to return the favor. Sometimes guests refused invitations knowing that the return obligation was more than they could or wish to handle.

… Table fellowship across status lines was relatively rare in traditional societies. In the inclusive early Jesus groups, it was an ideal that caused sharp friction on several counts. It was especially difficult for the elite, who risked being cut off by families and social networks if seen in public eating with persons of lower rank. That was especially so in the city (the setting for the text), where status stratification was sharp and members of the elite were expected to maintain it.”1

Well, that helps make sense of why this is in a gospel – this reflects the radicalness of the early Jesus movement and just how significant it was for people to dismiss the social norms. The early Jesus movement mixed people across class lines and dismissed the concept that anyone mattered more than anyone else and it was … well, just the opposite of how things worked then.

And maybe now.

While sometimes I want to think things are better now, when I look at social policy, I notice that our systems and structures treat those living in poverty as expendable. When it would be easier, cheaper, and more just ease people's lives and we don't – I can't find many explanations other than we CHOOSE to enrich the elites at the cost of the lives of the poor and marginalized.

Maybe there isn't social cost to going to the wrong party in the same way anymore- although that may depend on one's social circle – but we still function as if some people are expendable and that's the same core problem.

Thank God the Jesus movement saw through it. Thank God the Hebrew prophets saw through it, and Jesus helped too.

Thank God for each and every person who refuses to be at peace with anyone being expendable and truly believes we are all made in the image of God! My goodness it matters, and my goodness it requires us to keep reminding each other to pay attention!

It requires that we let go of hierarchies – for ourselves and for others. The gospels tells us to always sit at the bottom, instead of fighting for the top. And, we are to invite those whose presence will lower our social standing, instead of those who can help pick us up.

I wonder, if someone had followed Jesus's advice in this (and I think they did), what it would be like to be one of “the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind” invited to a fancy dinner party for the elites. It seems like it might be terrifying. Would people have declined because they were playing by the rules and couldn't repay the invitation – or agree because they were too hungry to care? Would they worry about what to wear and who else would be there? Would they be comforted or upset when others in their own social class were the other attendees?

Because, it turns out that the narratives of who matters are also taught to those society says don't matter, and it isn't easy to let go of it even when you know it is a falsehood.

What would it be like to be a host used to formal dinner parties with people engaging in social climbing, to suddenly be at a table with people you are used to ignoring and dismissing? Might it be uncomfortable? Refreshing? Would there be a lot of laughter? What might the host learn?

One of the things I learned in seminary studies of urban ministry is that people do best in mixed income housing situations. And they mean all people. Because we have so much to learn from one another. It benefits kids of families who are living in poverty to see other ways of life. It benefits those who are well off to see that those who are struggling are real people with gifts and passions, and to see their way of life. It creates stronger communities, with more empathy and more creative solutions when we don't segregate ourselves – by any measure. Further, it encourages everyone to be generous with what they have which benefits all the givers and all the receivers. It makes generative space for everyone born.

It is funny to think of this dinner party. The host might teach about expected table manners, but the guests might be honest enough to admit what doesn't taste very good ;) Or exclaim with delight at a delicious bread the host had stopped noticing years ago. Or just be happy to be full, and remind the host that such a gift is one to be truly thankful for.

In our We Cry Justice reading, Carolyn Jean Foster imagines that shared table as a place for meaningful conversations between equal conversational partners – a pretty beautiful image that fits the Jesus movement well. She reminds us that people who are well off often try to solve issues of systemic poverty – but don't actually understand them, “People who live in poverty know the solutions that would alleviate their suffering; they just do not have the resources. They need to be at the table.”2

In the world, this is still an oddity!! The world still seems to believe that those who are successful are more capable of solving problems for others instead of trusting that those who have experienced injustice are most capable of identifying their own problems.

But what a wonderful thing it is when people follow God's way instead of the world's ways! What a wonderful thing it is when we refuse honor, invite the unexpected guests, accept unexpected invitations, and learn from each other!

Now, you may not have noticed it, but socio-economic differences are not the only kind that exist. Around here they may not even be the ones we struggle with the most. I think for many of us, listening to those whose values differ from ours can be incredibly difficult, and even triggering. What would this gospel passage feel like if it said, “don't invite those who already agree with you, invite those who are voting for a party line you abhor?”

Feels a little harder to me already. But, then I remember all the times God has worked in me to undermine my assumptions.

These floods and hurricanes recently have had me thinking about 2011 when there was major flooding in the town where I was pastoring. I ended up coordinating volunteers who came to help people, some of the holiest work of my life. It also put me in some positions I wouldn't have otherwise agreed to be in. Some of the volunteers came from churches that didn't permit women clergy, and refused to accept women's authority – but they cared more about helping people than avoiding my leadership role. Some of the UM volunteers came from what are now GMC churches and we'd sit down and eat lunches on muddy former lawns and talk about things and realize how many places we disagreed – and how it didn't seem to matter one little bit when we were both there to share love.

A few weeks ago I shared on facebook a recommended set of questions for just such a dinner party, “How to have conversations with people who disagree with you” which suggested asking:

Which life experiences have shaped your views?

Imagine for a moment that you got what you wanted in regards to this issue. How would your life change?

For those who disagree with you, what would you like them to understand about you?

What do you want to understand about those with whom you disagree?

What is this personally important to you?3

Those aren't questions about changing each other's minds, but they are about actually hearing each other- about re-humanizing each other – about learning! I may never agree with someone who wants to cut SNAP benefits, but it is entirely possible that I can learn form their perspective and come to a more nuanced understanding of what could work better than what we have now!

We are in conversations right now about creating some spaces to talk with those with whom we think we disagree. I think those are exactly the holy places Jesus wants to invite us into. The Gospel tells us so.

Thanks be to God for holy moments when we can speak and listen and be formed by our compassion into people even more able to love all of God's people – everyone born. Amen

1Bruce J. Malina and Richard L. Rohrbaugh Social-Science Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003) “Textual Notes: Luke 16:1-16” p. 285-6.

2Carolyn Jean Foster, “50: Band-aids or Justice” in We Cry Justice, ed. Liz Theoharis (Minneapolis: Broadleaf Books, 2021) p. 217, used with permission.

3Source: Solutions Journalism, posted by “Unfundamentalist”

October 13, 2024

Rev. Sara E. Baron 

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady 

603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305 

Pronouns: she/her/hers 

http://fumcschenectady.org/ 

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

[seoagencykochinew]

Best Digital Marketing Agency in Kerala: Igniting Your Online Presence

In today’s fast-paced digital age, where everyone and their grandma is online, businesses have no choice but to jump on the digital marketing bandwagon. But let’s be real here — just having a website or tossing out a few social media posts isn’t enough to stand out. If you’re looking to make a real splash, you need something extra. You need creativity, strategy, consistency, and most importantly, a top-notch digital marketing partner. So, where do you find that? Right here in Kerala! Whether you’re a budding entrepreneur or an established business looking to scale up, discovering the best digital marketing agency in Kerala could very well be the key to your success.

But what makes a digital marketing agency the best? Is it their creativity? Their ability to adapt? Or maybe it’s just sheer luck? Spoiler alert: It’s a combo of all that and a whole lot more. Let’s dive in and uncover what sets the top agencies apart, and why choosing the best digital marketing agency in Kerala might just be the smartest decision you’ll make this year.

What Exactly is a Digital Marketing Agency?

Before we dive into the nitty-gritty of what makes an agency the best, let’s take a moment to clarify what a digital marketing agency actually does. You might be thinking, “Oh, it’s just ads on Facebook and Google, right?” Well, not quite. There’s a lot more behind the curtain.

Digital marketing agencies specialize in promoting your business across various online platforms — search engines, social media, websites, and email, to name a few. Their goal? To attract, engage, and convert customers for you using a mix of digital tools and strategies. From building your brand’s online presence to ensuring you’re ranking high on Google searches, these agencies do it all.

Here’s a glimpse of the services most digital marketing agencies offer:

Search Engine Optimization (SEO): Tweaking your website so it ranks higher on search engines. Because if you’re not on page one, do you even exist?

Pay-Per-Click Advertising (PPC): Running ads that only charge you when someone clicks. Talk about getting what you pay for!

Social Media Management: Managing your social platforms to engage with your audience (and not just by posting cat memes, although that could help).

Content Marketing: Creating blogs, videos, infographics, etc., that speak directly to your audience’s interests and needs.

Email Marketing: Sending targeted emails to nurture leads and keep customers coming back.

Web Design and Development: Crafting a website that’s as functional as it is fabulous.

And that’s just scratching the surface. A full-service digital marketing agency has a finger in every digital pie — meaning they know how to get your brand noticed by the right people at the right time.

Why Kerala is a Hotspot for Digital Marketing

So, why Kerala? Why not Delhi or Mumbai or even Bengaluru, which are more synonymous with the tech scene? Well, Kerala’s digital marketing landscape is booming, thanks to a mix of talent, creativity, and innovation. The “God’s Own Country” might be known for its backwaters and spices, but it’s also becoming a powerhouse in the digital marketing world.

Here are a few reasons why Kerala is turning heads in the digital sphere:

1. Creative Minds Galore

Kerala is home to some of the most creative minds in the country. The state’s strong focus on education and innovation has produced a pool of talent that’s both technically savvy and creatively inclined. This means digital marketing agencies here can offer out-of-the-box ideas that truly stand out.

2. Cost-Effective Solutions

Compared to cities like Mumbai and Delhi, the cost of services in Kerala is relatively lower. But lower costs don’t mean lower quality. In fact, agencies in Kerala often offer exceptional services at more affordable rates, making it an attractive option for businesses looking to get the best bang for their buck.

3. Tech-Savvy Workforce

Kerala has always been ahead of the curve when it comes to tech adoption. With a young, dynamic, and tech-savvy workforce, digital marketing agencies in the state are equipped to handle the latest trends and tools in the industry.

4. A Growing Digital Ecosystem

Kerala’s startup scene is flourishing, and with that comes a growing demand for digital marketing. As more businesses pop up, the need for professional digital marketing services grows, leading to a competitive and innovative environment.

What Sets the Best Digital Marketing Agency in Kerala Apart?

There are hundreds of digital marketing agencies out there, so how do you pick the one that’s going to deliver results? Let’s break down what separates the best from the rest:

1. Strategy, Strategy, Strategy

Anyone can throw up a few ads on Google, but not everyone can craft a comprehensive digital marketing strategy that aligns with your business goals. The best digital marketing agencies in Kerala take the time to understand your business inside and out. They ask questions. Lots of them. They want to know who your customers are, what their pain points are, and how your product or service can solve those issues. Then, they build a strategy that speaks directly to those needs.

2. Results-Driven Approach

It’s all about the numbers, baby! The best agencies don’t just talk the talk — they walk the walk. They track everything, from website traffic to conversion rates to return on investment (ROI). And if something’s not working? They pivot. There’s no “set it and forget it” here. The best agencies are always testing, tweaking, and optimizing to make sure you’re getting the most out of your digital marketing budget.

3. A Team of Specialists

No one’s a jack-of-all-trades anymore. The best digital marketing agencies have a team of specialists, each with their own area of expertise. You’ve got your SEO wizards, your content creators, your PPC experts, and your social media mavens all working together to bring your vision to life.

4. Transparent Communication

Ever worked with an agency that just goes radio silent for weeks on end? Not fun, right? The best digital marketing agency in Kerala won’t leave you hanging. They’re big on communication, providing regular updates, reports, and insights. If something isn’t clear, they take the time to explain it — no jargon, just plain English.

5. Creativity with a Capital C

In a world where consumers are bombarded with ads, creativity is your best weapon. The best digital marketing agencies in Kerala don’t just follow trends — they set them. They push the envelope, think outside the box, and come up with campaigns that not only grab attention but also resonate with your target audience.

Success Stories: The Proof is in the Pudding

Now, let’s talk results. The best way to judge a digital marketing agency is by looking at what they’ve achieved for other clients. Here are some success stories from the best digital marketing agency in Kerala:

Case Study 1: E-Commerce Growth Hack

An e-commerce client came to the agency struggling to drive traffic and sales. The agency implemented a multi-channel approach that included SEO, PPC, and email marketing. Within six months, the client saw a 200% increase in website traffic and a 150% boost in sales. Not too shabby, right?

Case Study 2: Local Business Goes Global

A local business wanted to expand its reach internationally. The agency crafted a strategy that involved international SEO and targeted social media ads. Within a year, the business was shipping products to over 10 countries and saw a 300% increase in revenue.

Case Study 3: From Social Media Zero to Hero

A startup was struggling to gain traction on social media. The agency took over their social accounts, created a content calendar, and ran a series of targeted ads. Within three months, the startup’s follower count skyrocketed, and engagement rates went through the roof.

FAQs: Your Burning Questions Answered

Q: How do I know if a digital marketing agency is right for my business?

A: Look at their past work, client reviews, and ask for a consultation. A good agency will be transparent about their process and results.

Q: How long does it take to see results from digital marketing?

A: It varies! SEO can take a few months to show results, while PPC and social media ads can drive traffic almost immediately.

Q: What should I expect to pay for digital marketing services?

A: Pricing depends on the scope of work and the agency’s experience. Always ask for a detailed proposal before committing.

The Best Digital Marketing Agency in Kerala — Your Growth Partner

At the end of the day, choosing the best digital marketing agency in Kerala comes down to finding a partner who understands your goals, has a proven track record, and is committed to driving results. The digital landscape is constantly evolving, and having a team that’s creative, strategic, and results-oriented is key to staying ahead of the curve.

Whether you’re looking to dominate search engines, create viral social media campaigns, or boost your online sales, the best digital marketing agency in Kerala has the skills, expertise, and passion to help you achieve your goals. So, why wait? Your business deserves the best, and the best digital marketing agency in Kerala is ready to take you to the next level!

[lindajenni]

oct 25

faith is a fact but faith is an act

"show me your faith without your works, and i will show you my faith by my works." jam 2:18

i’ve heard the old saying that “life is not a bed of roses” for as long as i can remember. i understand what it’s trying to convey but i’ve also thought that it would not really be all that great to lay down on a bed of sharp thorns. nevertheless, it’s safe to say our journey will have its ups and downs and unfortunately, most of us will experience our share of hard times.

whether it’s a financial worry, a medical situation, family problems, a concern for the world, or just being discouraged from the relentless grind of our job, life can be tough. however, in the midst of all that is going on, we can always turn to God who is filled with an endless source of strength, hope, and love. we can choose to embrace the encouraging truth that God cares about our problems and how He has the power and the solutions to give us the victory no matter the size of our mountain or how dark the night. “and God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.” 2 cor 9:8

yes, there are bumps in the road that can help us learn about faith and patience but whatever the crisis it was not God’s intention for us to dwell in a state of defeat. in spite of being surrounded by negative forces, we have been given the opportunity through Christ to abide in His presence where there is an abundance of joy, security, and peace. in john chapter ten and verse ten and eleven we find the words of Christ, “the thief comes not but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: but I have come that you might have life and that you might have it more abundantly. i am the Good Shepherd: the Good Shepherd gives his life for the sheep.” whatever the situation, He has promised that He wants to save you and bring you through your trials stronger and more confident than ever.

the concept of God supplying our needs is wonderful but there is also a very important component to receiving His abundant blessings and that is our responsibility to believe. if we do not have faith, it’s not only impossible to please Him but highly unlikely that His miracles can be activated into our life. in jeremiah chapter 29, we see in verse 11 that we are always on His mind and He has planned very good things for us to enjoy. but continuing in the context, the next two verses mention for us to take the initiative to call upon Him, pray, and seek His presence with all of our heart which of course includes the element of trust and assurance.

i recall a story about a small farming community that had been experiencing a terrible drought. the crops were dying in the fields and everyone was very worried because this is how they made their living. the pastor of the local church called a special prayer service for all the people of the town to gather in front of the church and spend some time agreeing in faith that God would send some rain. many people arrived and you could sense the seriousness among the crowd. as the pastor was getting ready to begin the meeting, he noticed a young girl standing quietly in the front. her face was beaming with excitement and then he saw beside her, open and ready for use, was a large colorful umbrella.

as he stared at the umbrella, he was a little ashamed that he did not bring one but also felt a sudden surge of hope and confidence. the little girl’s childlike innocence warmed his heart as he realized how much faith she possessed. though the town had come together to pray for rain, it seemed no one else had thought that maybe they should bring an umbrella to keep from getting wet.

a life without a positive expectation and a hopeful anticipation of goodness is an example of the miserable pessimist who abides in the shadows of fear and sadness. the world and even our own human nature is constantly telling us it’s impossible, it’s risky, it’s hopeless, but we will believe that nothing is too difficult for God and all things are possible with Him.

believe today. believe God for mighty acts, but in believing, act accordingly. "but let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind. for let not that man suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways." james 1:6-8

good old james. he added action to his faith, practicality and common sense took second place.

[leonbloder]

From Darkness To Light

This past week we went on our first family vacation in a few years, adding my middle son's longtime girlfriend into the mix for the first time.  

The seven of us traveled to Costa Rica, which meant connecting flights, a four-hour drive from the airport to where we were staying, and many tired people once we got to our rented house in the middle of the night.

Not to mention, I almost got the SUV I was driving stuck on the steep gravel road that led to our destination.

Because we had been driving in the dark for hours, and there were no natural street lights or any other kind of illumination around us, we had no idea what our environs looked like or where we were, for that matter.

We essentially fell into bed exhausted, not even unpacking our clothes.

The next day we all stepped out of our rooms for breakfast and were greeted by the most fantastic ocean view from high on the hill where our house was.  

The sky seemed bigger than I'd ever seen, with so little to distract from its immense beauty.  And even though the Costa Rican coastline was far below, it didn't deter us from repeatedly hearing the waves from the Pacific crash against the rocky shore.

For the next several days, we got the chance to drive the roads we'd driven in the dark and see the beauty of the rainforest surrounding them, the charm of the town we'd driven through without really noticing, and the stunning beaches we'd passed without knowing it.

I thought about how our perspectives changed when we could see what was around us, when the darkness fell away, and the light revealed what we missed.

So much of life is like that, isn't it?

Far too often, we live with shadows obscuring our view of the beauty of what is around us.  

These shadows can come in the form of fear over our need for certainty, control, safety, and security.  And they can also come in the form of real and imagined hurts.

Whatever their origin, these shadows can often keep us from the joy that comes when we truly open our eyes without fear, dread, bitterness, anger, or anything that clouds our vision.    

But when we brush away the shadows and embrace the light, we might say, "All that was there the whole time, and I didn't know it."  

The truth is, none of us were meant to live in the shadows.  We might visit them occasionally but weren't meant to stay there.  And yet, so many of us choose to journey in the dark even though it was never our destiny.

In his letter to the church at Ephesus, the Apostle Paul had this to say:

For once you were full of darkness, but now you have light from the Lord. So live as people of light!

We are meant to live as people of light, wide-eyed, hearts full, taking in the beauty of God's presence.  So chase away the shadows that have kept you from truly experiencing God around you, and take it all in.  

May it be so, and may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you now and always. Amen.  

[limitlessscion]

He felt his anger rising at Suguru's mocking laugh at his back, pulling at an immature urge to turn around and throw something in his face before the balcony door could close, or at least flip the bird. The distance he put between his back and Suguru pulled at him with all the force of the universe trying to correct for Blue's impossibility ( turn around, go to him, fix this, don't let him go ) but his thoughts settled into a semblance of calm with that growing space between them. He held onto that childish rage he felt, so toothless that it made him pause to laugh at himself. He was pissed, and yet the worst he wanted to do was to squish a cushion into that smug pretty face.

Suguru turned him into such a pathetic emotional mess; no wonder he'd been laughed at.

The wry smile on his face faltered when he dropped the shirt off in the laundry basket and he thought back to the threat he'd made. The way Suguru had laughed it off, had refused to promise some peace before that— Satoru couldn't afford to be toothless there. It was a conflict he needed to resolve. He spent time unmoving under the hot stream of the showerhead for a while, thinking as he allowed the simple flow of water rinse clear his skin of sweat and saliva and the lingering smell of tobacco. Satoru thought nothing deeply of the gesture itself (he'd been eccentrically fastidious his whole life), idly tracing a sore mark he could heal at a whim but did not (that man sure liked to use his teeth.)

The conflict was clear. In one hand he held his love for a man that he could no longer be without; in the other, his responsibility to two kids he'd pledged his support to and who'd paved that relationship with care and devotion. The fundamental incompatibility between Suguru's delusional beliefs and Tsumiki's simple right to existence.

Satoru had known since he'd turned twenty the depth of his affections towards the boy that had left his life. It hadn't been and would never be the kind of love he'd read in his mangas or on the movie screen or saw blossoming between other people around him, but he'd still felt it deeply in his very soul. Returning to Suguru's presence had confirmed all those feelings and more, just a single taste leaving him addicted. Yet Suguru's ideals were not something he could ever fall into. He'd drawn that line in the sand during that first meeting where Suguru had beckoned with open arms.

If you'd asked me to join you back then— I would have.

It'd been a declaration, but thinking back now it might also have been a plea. He'd used back then to mean not now, a defiant statement nailed in position by his responsibility. But Suguru had always had a tremendously tight grip on his very sense of right and wrong; was it possible some part of him still trusted that man's judgement over his own? As he patted himself dry and put on a full set of new clean clothes, he sighed shakily with his final revelation.

If Suguru forced him to choose, he wouldn't know what his answer would be. And that scared him. But Suguru had not asked Satoru to join him that first time despite claiming that he would have been able to achieve his dreams. He was too principled to use his power over a fledgling god that had been the answer to his ideals.

Satoru could only trust that hasn't changed.

As he stepped back in the main living space, his signature shaded glasses perched on his nose and his hair still a damp tussled mess, he caught Suguru stepping back in from the balcony as well. It seems they'd reached their conclusions at a similar interval.

"I'm glad you didn't leave," Satoru took his seat back on the sofa, noting that the TV was in standby mode, the company logo bouncing endlessly off the edges of the screen. The movie must have run its course while both of them had been away. He gestured for Suguru to join him.

"Can we start over and talk, properly? I want to make this, —us— work." He'd told himself he'd keep his heart more guarded this time, but he noticed how quick the edge of longing creeped back in his voice, as he drank in the sight of that curtain of black hair draped over that frame he wanted so badly to pull back into his arms.

❝ Tsh! Unbelievable. ❞ The glass door hisses shut behind him, leaving Satoru with the echo of his sardonic chuckle. Though, the moment he is out into stale city air, his rolling eyes still over a spot on the horizon — bottom lip wobbling with a barely held pout. When leaning over the railing, he is granted a beautiful vantage of the city that never sleeps. The match sparks and the smoke begins to puff around his face, seep into his hair.

He looks to the past over his shoulder, plucks a memento from the chest of his old self's bloated corpse as it floats. His cigarette trick. When he couldn't make up his mind, he'd use the damn thing to gather his thoughts in one place, let them burn and flood his lungs until there's naught but ashes on the filter. Fingers lift the kiseru up into the light.

The pipe holds about ten drags. By the time it is burnt out, Suguru will have made up his mind.

So he begins to unravel his thoughts, taking them one by one, examining them, placing them in order. There's something soothing in the ritualistic precision of it all; a process he has repeated countless times throughout his life, and he dare not count how many of these deep thinking sessions had been inspired by the same man that had withdrawn into the apartment; to tinker with himself as he once would after taking a blow in a mission. Figure out the error, rewrite the response, run it through testing; Suguru knew Satoru's algorithms by heart. He'd listened to him explain his processes for hours, he'd been the one pointing out the errors made in haste. Even with this distance placed between them, he was fairly confident that he could follow his thread of thinking up to a point.

For example, Satoru never remembered anyone's name. Most people thought it was because he was spoiled and arrogant, but he had rational explanations for it. Though it did sound rude when he'd admitted it out loud ( 'I don't want to clog my mind with useless information' ) it was the truth. In Suguru's observation, he behaved exactly like a machine in some things — and he was honest ( one of his favorite parts about him~ ) So, for the strongest sorcerer alive to be so adamant on mentioning the name of a monkey child was an exception to his code — which could only mean one thing.

Satoru had really come to care for those kids. But Satoru is also his friend -- lover; family. So a member of his family cares about a monkey.

His thumb rubs at his temple, skeptical eyes browsing the endless expanse of glass windows reflecting neon signs below. The pipe is halfway through. The aftertaste of tar brings clarity. How has he dealt with similar situations before? There was this one curse user that had joined his group at one point — she liked to breed with them. Suguru had brushed it off as personal preference at first, swallowing his disgust and the twitch of his lip, but when she complained to him about slaughtering one of her seasonal lovers, his eyes had assumed a cooler hue of violet. Later that same evening he had softly corrected Nanako as she had been combing through his hair.

'She is a traitor, Geto-sama!' — ' No, Nanako. She is a victim. A victim of the monkey's ploy. It is what they do, after all, posing as lovers and friends to elicit protection from The Strong. That's how they get you. We must be understanding with our fellow sorcerers. Her life is her own; but she will have to leave the group. '

... Satoru must have felt so isolated from the world that he had found solace in watering a flower pot and watching the blossom grow; though it never speaks back or responds to the one who waters it, at least it keeps moving. Suguru had left him alone to exist surrounded by the cadaver of their adolescence. In that way, he had pushed him deeper into the clutch of this monkey that he had now come to perceive as family. That was not something Suguru had tolerated for his monkey-loving comrade back then. How would he tolerate it for Satoru now? He blinks some lingering smoke away, sinks into his elbows against the cool railing. And he suddenly remembers the rest of that conversation with Nanako from back then. The way her voice had lowered bashfully, her fingers stilling through his hair.

" Geto-sama? What if I ever liked ... ? " Pause. Silence. Realization. A smile, a sarcastic chuckle aimed at himself. Oh, silly, silly Suguru. You do — you do make exceptions. "— then, I would want you to be happy."

He coughs a bit over that last inhalation. The air comes out in hot clouds and dissipates around him. A distant memory of Shoko explaining how the deep breaths associated with smoking are actually more addictive than the nicotine visits him while a passing plane roars in the skies overhead. He can't impose his will on others, there is no point to chasing down some monkey child individually just to get under his skin. When smoking, one goes through so many motions if only to inhale that short-lived fix — just to take the pipe apart for cleaning is a process all its own. Suguru has been blackening his lungs for years by this point and he has accepted the price to pay. His answer is delivered to him by this kiseru.

He will take this love in like the drags left in his pipe; and relish each meet-up, each deep inhale of black tar and poison. Until the pipe burns out inevitably — he wants Satoru to be happy, because they are family. He sits with that revelation, surrounded by the ambience of sirens and buzzing city lights, as he begins to take the pipe apart and clean it, so it would be ready for that inevitable next session.

[samwisethewitch]

Working with Spirits

In my last post, I talked about different types of spirits that witches may work with. Today, we’re going to discuss how to approach spirits and establish a working relationship.

Keep in mind that these are general guidelines, and every spirit is different. I encourage you to do your own research beyond this post, especially if you plan to work with powerful entities like deities, angels, or fairies.

Remember the Four R’s

It’s important to keep these things in mind when working with spirits:

Respect. The spirits are powerful, and you need to have a healthy respect for that power when working with them. It’s also important to respect them as individual, autonomous beings.

I’m not saying that every interaction you have with the spirits needs to be a full blown ritual with incense and chanting. (In fact, some spirits don’t care for those types of rituals.) But every interaction you have with them should be conducted with an air of respect and reverence.

What this mostly boils down to is good manners. Being polite will get you better results — and it will also keep you from being on the receiving end of spirit mischief. Proper etiquette depends on the type of spirit you’re working with, which is one reason it’s important to do your research. In general, it’s polite to make an offering, use respectful language, and thank the spirits before you leave (unless you’re dealing with fairies — some traditions say you should never thank the fae).

Respecting spirits also means respecting their desires — even if that means respecting their wish not to work with you. Not every spirit you reach out to will want to form a relationship with you, just like not every person you meet in your life will want to be your friend. When a spirit turns you down, respect their decision, politely bid them farewell, and move on.

Reciprocity. The goal of spirit work is to establish a mutually-beneficial partnership — not for one partner to serve the other. On one hand, this means that you can’t just command spirits to do your bidding without giving anything in return. On the other hand, it also means that you won’t be worshiping/honoring them without receiving some kind of boon.

This is why it’s important to make offerings to the spirits you work with. These offerings “feed” the spirits by giving them power, and a good offering will likely make a spirit more willing to work with you. Offerings are not payment for favors from spirits (it’s not quite that simple), but they are a sign that you intent to practice reciprocity in your relationship.

In general, it’s important to make an offering when you first introduce yourself to a spirit and again before you ask them for anything. But you shouldn’t only make offerings when you’re about to ask for something! How would you feel if you had a friend who only did nice things for you when they were about to ask for a favor? You’d probably start avoiding them, right? You might even get angry. To avoid this kind of dynamic in your spirit work, make regular offerings to the spirits you work with. If you’re especially close with a spirit, you may want to offer to them every day.

Relationship. The spirits are not vending machines where you put offerings in and blessings fall out. They are living, sentient beings with feelings, and deserve to be treated as such. Your relationship with the spirits you choose to work with is just that: a relationship. And like any relationship, it requires time, energy, and emotional labor.

If that sounds like more effort than you want to make, there are plenty of ways to do magic without ever working with spirits. You don’t need to do spirit work to be a witch. It may not be your thing, and that’s okay!

But if you choose to work with spirits, it’s important to remember that you are working with them as an equal partner — you’re not their boss, and they are not obligated to like you, help you, or even tolerate you. Relationships with spirits are built over time, through mutual respect and trust.

You wouldn’t drive up to your friend’s house, throw a fast-food burger at them, and then demand a special favor. Likewise, you shouldn’t just dump an offering on your altar and demand something of the spirits. Take the time to sit down with them. Talk to them. Get to know them. Put some thought into your offerings, instead of just offering the same thing every time. Spirit work is, at its core, about building an authentic relationship with the spirits we choose to include in our practice. Enjoy it.

Research. When it comes to spirits, it’s important to know exactly who (and what) you’re dealing with. As previously mentioned, the etiquette for dealing with fairies is very different from other land spirits. Different deities have different standards for their worshipers, which vary from one pantheon to the next. The way you interact with your ancestors will probably be shaped by their personalities, cultures, and values. All this is to say it’s important to know who you’re reaching out to, preferably before you reach out to them.

With deities, this is easy. Most witches who choose to work with deities will feel drawn to a certain pantheon, or even a specific god or goddess. There’s a lot of information out there about most historical pantheons, so researching them is easy. The same goes for angels, saints, demons, and even fairies.

It can be a little more difficult to do your research when you’re dealing with land spirits, spirits of place, or other less well-known figures. In these cases, it’s best to take three steps: 1.) figure out what type of spirit you’re dealing with (land spirit, animal spirit, ancestor, etc.), 2.) find out what this type of spirit is like generally, and 3.) find out how that applies to your specific spirit.

For example: you want to connect with your local land spirits. You do some research to find out how land spirits have been treated in various cultures — you find out that they’re typically benevolent, are closely tied to the natural landscape, and were often given food offerings. Then, you do some research into your local plants and animals — what form might a nature spirit take in your local environment? Would it be a huge moose with snow-covered antlers, or a magnolia tree in full bloom? Is there any local folklore in your area that could be describing a land spirit? Once you have answers to these questions, you’ll have a much better idea of how to approach the spirits and start up a relationship.

Initiating a Relationship with a Spirit

Begin by identifying who this spirit is. For example, let’s say you choose to reach out to a specific ancestor spirit — maybe a deceased grandparent. Make sure you’re familiar with the etiquette for interacting with this type of spirit so you don’t accidentally do something disrespectful. (If your Grandma hated cussing, try not to drop any f-bombs while communing with her.)

Create a special space to communicate with the spirit. This can be as simple as lighting a candle or as elaborate as setting up a special altar. If you’re reaching out to a grandparent, you might set up a small ritual space with a photo of them, any of their belongings that you have access to, and some things that they enjoyed while they were alive. These items may make the connection easier, but you don’t need them to communicate. What matters is that you’ve taken the time to create a special space for this moment. (Like all ritual spaces, it should be clean and tidy, and it’s a good idea to do an energetic cleanse beforehand.)

Make an offering. Make sure your offering is appropriate for the spirit you’re connecting to. Offerings should be made with an air of reverence — don’t just toss a bag of Doritos on your altar and expect it to be well-received.

Introduce yourself. Speak out loud. State your intention and who you are hoping to connect with.

Wait and listen. You may feel a presence or receive some kind of sign — or you may not. Just because you didn’t get a sign doesn’t mean that your offering wasn’t noticed or that you’re being ignored. You may also receive a sign several hours, days, or weeks after you first reach out. Be patient.

Say your farewells. Express your gratitude for the spirit’s presence, and let them know that you are ending your little ritual. It’s up to you whether to invite them to stick around or politely tell them to leave, but if you’re going to give a spirit permission to linger in your home you better be 1000% sure you know who they are and what their intentions with you are.

Moving Forward

As you work with this spirit, it is important to establish clear boundaries for the relationship. Be clear about what you want to accomplish by working with them, and make sure you understand what they expect from you in return.

You might want to establish a time limit: for example, maybe you’re choosing to work closely with the goddess Brigid from Imbolc to Samhain, at which point you can choose to continue the relationship or to take a step back. Or, you may choose to work with a spirit on a specific task — for example, working with the goddess Aphrodite to get back on your feet and rebuild your self esteem after a breakup. Once this task is accomplished, you may choose to form a more long-term relationship or to take a step back.

Forming a permanent or long-term working relationship with a spirit is a very big, very serious commitment, and should not be taken lightly. This goes double for anything involving a ritual commitment, such as dedication to a deity. When you make these commitments, you are choosing to make a spirit and their energy a permanent part of your life. This decision requires some very serious introspection and consideration, and should not be made impulsively.

Resources:

Southern Cunning: Folkloric Witchcraft in the American South by Aaron Oberon

A Practical Heathen’s Guide to Asatru by Patricia M. Lafayllve

Where the Hawthorn Grows and The Morrigan: Meeting the Great Queens by Morgan Daimler

Wicca for Beginners by Thea Sabin

Azrael Loves Chocolate, Michael’s A Jock: An Insider’s Guide to What Your Angels Are Really Like and The Angel Code by Chantel Lysette

New World Witchery podcast (several episodes, including “Episode 164 — Irish Folklore and Magic,” “Episode 161 — Practicing Safe Hex,” and “Episode 152 — Honoring Ancestors”)

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

Don’t Go Baking My Heart || Seokjin

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

Summary: You fall in love with Kim Seokjin’s bakery after wandering into it to take advantage of the post-Valentine’s Day discount on the chocolates. Maybe it’s the owner’s bad jokes, maybe it’s the other regulars, maybe it’s the delicious pastries. Or maybe there’s something more that keeps you coming back to that shop.

Also available on Ao3.

Word count: 14.7k

Genre: Strangers (to Friends) to Lovers, Bakery AU, tooth-rotting Fluff, some smut

Warnings & Tags: mentions of insecurities and of former relationships, smut (vaginal sex, oral [male receiving], fingering), Jin makes Bad Jokes, Valentine’s Day themed

A/N: Soooo this was supposed to come out for Valentine’s Day, but it wasn’t ready then, so you guys get it now instead! I’m bad with puns so I definitely had to look online for those used in this oops. Finally, I’d like to give a big thank you to the amazing @elidebrey​ who actually worked in a bakery shop and told me all about (I’m sorry you guys ran out of milk all the time). She’s an amazing writer and you should check her out if you like the Batfam! Hope you’ll enjoy this one-shot!

February 15th

You first walk into Kim Seokjin’s bakery the day after Valentine’s Day. Your eye was caught by the chocolates and cakes you noticed on sale from the outside, and also the name of the place, The Rolling Scones, which is either genius or terrible, you can’t pick. The door bell chimes happily, first when you push the door open and then when it closes behind you.

The place is empty. There’s no one behind the counter, and you find yourself hesitating there for a second, both arms behind your back like a shy schoolgirl — which you once were, but that was a while ago now. Natural light, the cold sun of February, is falling through the bay windows, and the place is cute, clearly decorated with love and care. It makes you feel just a little warmer inside.

Since no one seems to be showing up, you take your time to look at the display. You’ve spent the past week crying over the end of your two year relationship, and you’re desperately craving something sweet and sugary to fill the hole in your heart and in your life. Post Valentine’s Day discount is definitely the best way to do that.

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you knew this relationship was never going to be your forever. It was just a nice and comfortable situation to be in, and you expected you and him to part ways at some point.

You just didn’t particularly expect it to be now.

“Jungkook!” a strong voice shouts from the back of the shop, startling you. It’s quickly followed by a curse, and then a man walks in, glancing back with a worried expression, tying an apron around his waist and adjusting a small black hat on his head. You notice the ‘Jungkook’ tag on his apron, and it makes you soften in sympathy. The second his eyes fall on you, he recomposes himself, and shoots you a smile that’s professional, though the nervousness doesn’t quite disappear. “What can I do for you?”

“I was just looking,” you say, and he leans forward, probably straining to hear. Your voice has always had that weird tendency to become inaudible when you’re talking to strangers. “You don’t have anything with strawberries, do you?”

“I’m afraid everything we had went yesterday,” he says with a sympathetic frown.

“Oh, right,” you mumble. You’re disappointed to a stupid degree, and you know it’s because your emotions have been running wild recently, to the point where any small contrariety threatens to make you cry. Fortunately, you don’t, right now. That would be horribly embarrassing. “Um, I guess I’ll take that box and, uh, the éclair, please, then.”

“Of course!”

His movements are quick and precise as he takes it out, and you could be mistaken, but you think he’s deliberately not looking at you. You’re not particularly blaming him for it, though, because you’re doing the exact same thing.

“Anything else?” he asks once he’s done, and you shake your head, avoiding eye contact. “For here or to go? We’re also a café,” he elaborates when you give him a surprised — and slightly panicked — glance.

“Oh. To go, please,” you say, not so much because you actually want to, and much more because you’re bad at changing your plans when you had already made your decision.

Except… You eye the bakery. It’s not like you have anyone to come back to, and you don’t particularly want to be back at your apartment to wallow alone. You might even get some things done while you’re here.

“Um, actually, would you mind if I…?” The question dies on your lips. You’re already feeling too embarrassed to continue, but he looks up, eyes wide, and nods.

“No, no, please take a seat! Do you want something to drink as well?”

“That— That would be nice, actually.”

“Alright, just give me a second and I’ll bring you our, er, menu.”

It’s not a menu, it’s a list of drinks the owner printed and coated with plastic, and insists on calling a menu, but he isn’t going to tell you that.

You pick a table that faces the door, and after choosing and ordering your tea, pull out your computer. It’s not that the things you have to do can’t wait, but you don’t like sitting alone doing nothing. The shop is desperately empty, and part of you is terrified by the idea that Jungkook could come over to talk to you. That would probably end up not being completely unpleasant, but you’re not sure you can handle that much interaction with other human beings right now.

While scrolling through the text you are currently working on editing, you pick a chocolate out of the box to eat it and hold back a satisfied moan at the taste. The fact that it’s so good makes you feel a little more upset that you’ve never been in a relationship for Valentine’s Day and therefore have never been given anything like that.

It’s always been bad luck really, because you’ve been in a few relationships, but even with your last boyfriend, the two of you were on a break in February. The others never made it longer than a few months, and never fell at the right time. It’s not even like you want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, you do think it’s mostly a commercial holiday, and you definitely don’t want any expensive gift, but you’d be happy to have someone by your side to make fun of other couples with. Someone to love you, and someone to love.

God, you want to be in love so bad. For a few months, you thought you had it with your ex, and maybe you did, for a moment, but it had slipped from your fingers without you managing to do anything about it, leaving you sad and empty. You want to feel everything the movies and books promised, the butterflies in the stomach, the rush in the beat of your heart. You want to feel like someone holds your world in their hands. You want them to love you back — really love you, so much that you’ll catch them looking at you and see it in their eyes immediately, so much that they’ll remember how you like your tea in the morning.

You don’t think your ex ever loved you, and you don’t really blame him for that. He liked you, certainly, and for a long time that was enough for you. But now, with it being over and him telling you he’d ‘met someone’, you want more out of your next relationship.

Then again, you’d thought that last time as well.

You’re grateful when Jungkook brings you your tea, tearing you away from thoughts you really don’t want to be having right now. He gives you a smile, then is quick to retreat back behind the counter, and something tells you that he has the same difficulties talking to people as you do.

That can’t make his job fun.

You’re soon able to immerse yourself in your work, much to your surprise. Usually, you’re hyper aware of your surroundings, and it’s hard to get work done unless you’re in a place that’s both quiet and familiar, but the atmosphere in here is so warm and pleasant that you’re able to relax and focus, all while drinking your tea and eating your sweets. It’s quite close to perfect, actually.

Which is why you jump violently when someone’s voice booms into the shop.

“Jeon Jungkook!”

You look up, panicked, and Jungkook turns around with the exact same look on his face. You don’t remember the doorbell ringing, so it has to be someone from the shop, and indeed, a tall man with short black hair walks in from the same place Jungkook entered. And your brain short-circuits.

It doesn’t happen all that often, for you to simply find yourself frozen because of how good-looking someone is, but in that case, you just can’t help it. The man who just walked in is tall, with very nice, broad shoulders, and the apron he is wearing underlines the muscles of his chest in ways you didn’t think were possible, but more than that, he’s also, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. When you glance at his plump, full lips, you find yourself having a hard time to tear yourself away. You’re relieved that you didn't have to order from him, because you’re sure it would have made you blush and stutter.

“Jungkook, there’s a mess in the back! What are you waiting fo—” Jungkook gives panicked glances in your direction, and the man catches your presence from the corner of his eyes, turning his sentence around as smoothly as is humanly possible, all while his lips curve up into a professional smile. “Ooh, hello, dear customer! I don’t think we’ve seen you here before, have we?”

A smile spills on your mouth, much to your surprise.

“No, it’s my first time here,” you answer. Your voice isn’t as strong as you’d like for it to be, but at least you didn’t choke. You suppose still being heartbroken serves as a shield against the man’s handsomeness. “I figured there’d be some discount after Valentine’s Day, and I was hungry, so…”

“You figured you’d kill two birds with one scone?” the man asks while Jungkook, behind him, silently smacks his forehead. You figure he’s heard it a million time before, but you haven’t, and you can’t help but laugh. That makes the man’s smile widen genuinely and his eyes crease.

“I guess you came up with the bakery name,” you chuckle.

“Absolutely. Isn’t it a great name?”

Jungkook shakes his head in disgust.

“It’s genius,” you say, and the man slams his hand on the table.

“See? I told you! Jungkook keeps saying that I have a terrible sense of humor—”

“I’ll be in the back if you need me,” Jungkook grumbles.

“Hey, what do we say to customers?”

“Ah— It was nice to meet you!” he says, turning around to look at you and he seems somewhat sincere. “I hope we’ll be seeing you again.”

Then he bows his head politely and disappears in the back of the shop. The other man — who you suppose is the owner of the place — watches, laughing fondly, but goes quiet after that, so you go back to your work.

You don’t stay around too long, not wanting to overstay your welcome, but you’re still the only one in the shop by the time you decide to walk out.

“Was the tea any good?” the man asks as you walk by him.

You nod and smile.

“And the chocolates were delicious,” you add. “I’ll make sure to come back.”

“That’s music to my ears,” he says, dramatically putting a hand on his chest. That’s when you notice the ‘Seokjin’ tag on his apron. You don’t know what to do with that information, though. You don’t call strangers by their first name and you also don’t stalk people on line.

Especially not when you don’t have their last name.

You say a quick ‘goodbye’, then walk out. Jin’s eyes follow you for a few seconds, before he sighs and turns around, already taking off his apron.

“Jungkook!”

The boy is quick to appear again, scanning the shop for your presence.

“She’s gone?” he asks, and Jin gives a slap at the back of his employee's head with a groan. There’s no strength in it, though, and Jungkook barely reacts to it.

“How could you run away like that, you little—”

Jungkook easily avoids him when Jin tries to him it again, laughing at his outrage.

“We’re not going to be getting a lot more clients today, are we?” he asks, looking outside at the passers-by that don’t even spare a glance at the little shop.

“No,” Jin groans, letting himself fall on a chair.

The depressing calm that follows what is possibly the busiest day of the year for him is just one of the reasons why he absolutely despises Valentine’s Day.

February 22nd

When you show up at the bakery again, about a week later, you’re feeling surprisingly good about it. Last time went well, you decided, and the people were nice, so you’re not afraid to throw a quiet but polite “Hello!” when you walk in. It’s kind of funny — or is it sad — how it always surprises you when people are nice to you, much more used to passive disinterest at best.

There’s another man in the shop this time, with a laptop and a coffee in front of him, but he doesn’t look up at you. A head lifts up from behind the counter though. You feel vaguely embarrassed that you remember this one is Seokjin, and you only feel more awkward when he gives you a dazzling smile.

A glance at the display tells you that they have restocked on their strawberry-based pastries, and you happily pick a slice of cake for yourself.

“For here or to go?”

“I’ll have it here,” you say with a smile. You feel strangely proud of yourself for being able to say it spontaneously. He has no way of knowing it, but it’s quite the victory for you. Usually, you try to run from the presence of others as fast as you can, and it’s even worse those days. “And I’ll also have Darjeeling tea with it, please.”

“Coming right up, just take a seat and I’ll bring it to you,” he says, and then he winks. He doesn’t stick around to see the surprised look on your face, so you just do as he told you, wondering if he was flirting with you or if he’s just Like That. You think that second explanation might be the answer.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says when he arrives with the cake and the tea. You’re pretty sure he can’t place you exactly, just thinks your face is familiar, but it still makes you happy.

He tells you he hopes you’ll come back when you leave, and you decide you want to believe it.

June 1st

You’re not sure when you become an official ‘regular’ at the bakery. Maybe it’s when you ask Jin if they even do scones, and he leans over the counter to tell you conspiratorially that he actually wanted to call the shop ‘bake it ’til you make it’, but was told it was too long. That elicits a brief burst of laughter from you, and Jungkook tells you to stop encouraging him, but Seokjin looks so happy with himself when you laugh that you decide not to listen to him. Jin has that way of breaking past your shyness that fascinates you. It might be what keeps you coming back, more than the delicious sweets and how beautiful the two workers look.

Or maybe it’s when Jin tells you that it’s not fair you know their names but they don’t know yours, and that he’d ask you for your ID before selling you stuff if you don't tell him. When you tell him, he repeats it a couple of times, like he’s tasting it, before nodding with satisfaction. After that, him and Jungkook start greeting you with it, and insist you do the same with them. You’re reluctant at first, feeling somewhat confused about the whole thing, but it turns out to feel… nice, to have people to greet, and who also know your name.

Maybe it’s when Jin tells you that you’re late when you come in, or complains when you don’t show up on one of your usual days because you had a meeting with your boss. He doesn’t say anything on the day where you take your pastries to go because you’re visiting a friend at the hospital, though, and you wonder if he can just tell. Regardless, you appreciate it.

You find out about other people who come here frequently, too, and especially the ones who are friends with Jin and Jungkook. Namjoon, who sits with his laptop at the opposite end of the café from you. Yoongi, who usually sits in the same spot as you, and eyes you threateningly when he comes in and you’re there the first time, until Seokjin tells him to knock it off. Taehyung and Jimin, who always come in together, and who Jungkook usually joins to bicker and laugh with them. Hoseok, who likes to waltz in at random times, and whose smile actually rivals Jin’s.

You yourself come in twice a week, getting to your usual place to work — except on the couple of occasions where Yoongi gets there before you and gives you a triumphant smile when he sees you. You enjoy the way you’re always greeted by Jungkook or Seokjin, like they’re genuinely happy to see you. You discover that the old ladies who come here to gossip love to flirt with Jin and that, even though he flirts back outrageously, much to their delight, his ears tend to turn a bright red when he does.

You even bring your friends on a couple of occasion, and Seokjin jokes that you’re responsible for half of his turnover at this point. Your friends enjoy the food, and the drinks, but they enjoy the handsome employees and customers a lot more.

“So this is where all the hot men were,” Hana marvels when you walk out, and you burst out laughing. You like that you’ve shared this place with her, because it’s something that makes you really happy these days, motivates you to come out of your bed, and even to talk to people, something you’ve never been good at.

When you walk into the shop and make small talk with the people you’ve come to know, something you used to consider yourself terrible at, it might be silly, but it kind of feels like home.

June 21st

You are pretty sure you know when you go from regular to friend, though. It’s a day like any other and you hum on your way to the shop. Instead of the joyful “Welcome back, (Y/N)!” that you’ve gotten used to hearing these past few weeks, however, you’re greeted with Seokjin shouting “(Y/N), my savior!”.

You freeze on the spot and give him a worried look. From his table, Namjoon looks up, just as puzzled.

“Is everything okay, Jin?” he asks.

“Jungkook isn’t there today,” Jin tells you. His voice doesn’t sound different from usual, but there is a glint of panic in his eyes.  “I need your help.”

Namjoon stands up.

“Why didn’t you ask me? I could—”

“Stay where you are and don’t even think of approaching my kitchen,” Jin says threateningly. “(Y/N)? Please?”

Well. You suppose your work can get done later. You’re more productive when you come here, so you have some advance on your usual deadlines these days. But you don’t know what Jin wants from you and you’ve never worked in a bakery.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask cautiously.

He grabs your shoulders and your eyes widen at the contact. Not that it’s unpleasant, just unexpected.

“I knew when you first walked in here that you were a godsend,” he tells you seriously, looking right into your eyes, and you tell yourself that if he’s that good of an actor, you should probably watch out. “We’re out of milk.”

You blink.

“Okay. Is there a specific type of milk you want?”

“Just, milk. Get me milk and I’ll worship the ground you walk on until the end of days.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics, and take your bag off your shoulder, handing it to him.

“Look after that, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll protect it with my life,” he says solemnly. “Also paper napkins please!” he shouts as you’re already walking out.

“Will do!”

“Bake a leg!”

You want to protest the joke that even you find to be quite bad, but the door has already closed behind you, so you just shake your head at him, only to see him laughing with satisfaction through the glass, and head to the nearest supermarket.

You come back with two big packs of milk and a lot of paper napkins, just as two men are exiting. You’ve seen them before, but they never stay to chat. Inside, Jin is juggling three women, and he looks more relieved than you’ve ever seen him when you walk in.

“I’ll help you with that,” Namjoon says immediately, bumping in the table as he gets up.

“If you break anything, I’ll kill you,” Jin warns him. He’s smiling like he’s joking, and his tone is light, like he doesn’t want to scare off his customers, but his eyes say he’s sincere.

You’re quick in the back, and Namjoon does drop the packs once, but nothing bad happens. He presses a finger against his lips to tell you to keep it a secret, and you grin without a word. Part of you is kind of wondering what you’re doing there, why Jin feels comfortable letting you in the back and why he asked you to do that, but you don’t have an issue with it, not by a long shot. This is… kind of fun, actually.

“Anything else you want me to do?” you ask Jin when you come out, and he looks at you in a pleading way.

“You don’t mind?”

Something tells you you shouldn’t accept too quickly, that you could end up in way over your head faster than you know. But his brown eyes are wide and desperate and you just can’t say no. So you smile and shake your head.

“Of course not. You look like you really need a hand here.”

“I do.”

That’s how you find yourself in an apron, with the cute, black hat Jin and Jungkook always wear on your head. Jin mostly sends you in the back to pick up things he needs, or makes you bring the beverages to the customers, which you’re thankful for, because that way you don’t have to greet anyone. Time flies quickly, and you can barely find a second to breathe for the first few hours.

“Sorry, it’s lunch time,” Jin grimaces as he passes you by, and you think to yourself that at least, it will get better, but it takes a while even after that, and when it’s done, Jin sends you to buy some more stuff from the supermarket, because as it turns out, things go fast.

Before you know it, it’s closing time, and you look outside in disbelief. The sky is starting to turn a nice pink, and other shops are putting up their shutters.

“You can go, if you want,” Jin tells you. He sounds terribly sorry, and that makes you feel bad. It’s such an unusual tone for him to have.

His offer is tempting, of course. Your feet hurt, your head aches a little from all the noise that never bothered you before but turns out to be a lot when you’re there all day, you’ve burned your hand against an oven, and you’ve found out that carrying things ends up really hurting your back. But you know that he’s experiencing the same thing you do, and you just don’t have the heart to abandon him here. Also, you’ve already lost your day, so you might as well help him out now.

“It’s fine,” you sigh. “Do you want me to help with anything?”

Cleaning up goes quietly in the main shop, and that soothes you a little. You don’t mind the silence, even enjoy it, and find yourself relaxing for the first time today. Surprisingly, you’re feeling… satisfied. It’s not something you would particularly look forward to doing again, but you’re happy you did it, happy you helped Jin, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something today, which is always a good thing.

“You have flour everywhere,” he tells you bluntly when you walk in the back of the shop, and you laugh.

“Well, it got everywhere,” you reply, trying to rub some off your face, and it’s Jin’s turn to laugh when you fail miserably.

You know you shouldn’t do it, but you gather a small handful of flour from the table, and throw it at him. A good chunk hangs in the air and makes you cough, but the rest does land on his apron. His mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape and you know you’ve messed up.

“Listen, I am so sorry—”

“No you’re not,” he says, taking a step towards you. His hand is on the table, which is covered with flour, and you swallow.

“Sure I am, Jin, please—”

But your pleas fall in deaf ears, and flour is soon flying your way. It’s your turn to stare at Jin in disbelief, and then you’re laughing, loud and clear.

Maybe that’s the exact moment when the two of you become friends — really friends.

Or maybe it’s seconds later, when the room you’re in turns into the scene for an all-out flour battle. Regardless, you’re laughing the whole way through, when you’re not choking on the flour hanging in the air. Jin’s laughter is quieter than yours, miles away from the booming and somewhat fake laugh you’re used to hearing from him.

The fight only escalates when Jin picks up an egg. You shake your head, mouth ‘no’, but he doesn’t listen, and after that, things get a lot messier. By the time the two of you, exhausted and bent in half because of how much you’ve been laughing, finally stop, you can feel yoke trickling down your back, and you know the sight can’t be pretty. Jin reaches out to you in a useless attempt to wipe some flour from your face, only to laugh more when it, of course, fails once more.

You try not to think about the jolt of electricity that ran through you when his fingers came in contact with your cheek.

“I’ll clean up in here,” he tells you, “but you should go take a shower upstairs.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, surprised. Suddenly, you’re very conscious of the fact that you don’t know him that well. In recent months, you’ve talked to him more than you do with your close friends, and you did just throw several eggs at him, but you don’t know him. You’re aware of the fact that he lives above the shop, but you’ve never been there. The two of you have never even exchanged numbers.

He makes dramatic hand gestures to signal you to get away, like you’re bothering him, and you leave with a last laugh. You don’t notice the way he looks up when you do, or the way it makes him smile. He can’t help it, he just loves that he makes you laugh.

You’re relieved to step into the shower, both because you’re happy to clean up and because there was something really awkward about being in Seokjin’s apartment for the first time, alone. The place was not quite as decorated as the bakery was, with paler colors. Walking through it, you had noticed big speakers, some books in a shelf, and a couple of cute plushes that you had had to resist not to fawn over. The place worked for him, you had decided. It was more understated than you would have expected when you had just started to know him, but it doesn’t surprise you anymore. Jin tends to be quiet when he doesn’t have to be ‘on’, and it’s something he doesn’t seem to feel he has to do around you anymore.

You sigh in pleasure when the hot water hits you, close your eyes. You’ve been craving it for hours now — long before the food battle with Jin. It helps relax your aching muscles, washes away all the sweat from the day, and you have to resist not to just let yourself fall down onto the floor. Your back hurts, but the worst part has to be your feet. You feel yourself gaining a lot more appreciation for Jin and Jungkook, who are always kind, smiling and polite despite all of this. The only thing that kept you from biting someone’s head off tonight was your crippling anxiety when it comes to interacting with strangers.

It’s almost funny now to think you used to feel that way around Jin.

You look around for some soap you could use, and in your search, you’re surprised to find shampoo that was definitely intended for a woman. You don’t know why you’re surprised. It’s no wonder that Jin would have a girlfriend, really, it’s the opposite that should shock you, but you still didn’t expect it. You force away the pinch in your chest. Jin is a new friend, you can’t have your heart fluttering like that.

You consider using it for half a second, before deciding that it would be very awkward if you came out smelling like his girlfriend. Instead, you do your best to get rid of any egg, and tell yourself you’ll wash your hair at home. You barely hear the sound of the door opening and closing over the water, and you’re startled by Jin’s voice outside the bathroom.

“You can take a towel from the chest of drawers,” he tells you, “and I’ll leave a shirt outside, if you want it.”

“Thank you!” you shout back.

Seokjin stands there a few seconds, before quickly shaking his head and walking away. He knows his ears are turning red, and he hates himself for it, but is it his fault, really? Is he supposed not to think about you, right now, in his shower, water running down your body? He never even thought to pretend he was that innocent.

He occupies himself by preparing a drink for the two of you, and then by cleaning around. He’s not particularly messy, though, and there isn’t much to do, so he ends up sitting on his couch, feeling awkward in his own house, and scrolling aimlessly through his phone. He freezes again when he hears the bathroom door open and close, guessing you’re picking up his shirt. Which means you’re— God what is wrong with him tonight? When did he regress to the state of a hormonal teenager?

He hopes he looks natural when you come out, because he’s doing his best for that. The nervous way he’s running his hands over his thighs would probably give him out, though, if you weren’t feeling just as stressed as him.

“I’m done,” you mumble, your shyness coming back, which you decide is to be expected in that situation.

It vanishes the second Jin looks you over and snorts.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, glancing down, and immediately you know that you’re probably ridiculous in his black shirt. It looks like it’s swallowing you whole. “It’s not my fault if your shoulders are that broad,” you pout.

“You look so small,” Jin chuckles. He sounds endeared, and if you noticed that sort of things, you would absolutely realize that his eyes linger on you in his clothes fondly — and a little longer than necessary.

“Want something to drink?” he asks, gesturing at the stuff he got out of the fridge when he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Sure,” you smile, letting yourself fall down on the couch next to him and pouring yourself a glass. The brief awkwardness that washed over you when you came in vanishes already, because of how comfortable you feel around Jin. He’s always been good at making you feel that way, and now he doesn’t even have to try.

“So, how did you find your day?” he asks you, and you look at him, surprised by his tone. He sounds quiet, cautious almost, like he’s worried about what your reaction might be, or that he could be bothering you.

“Fine,” you say with a shrug. “I can’t say I’d want to do it again— When is Jungkook coming back?”

Jin chuckles, and again, it takes you by surprise. It’s so… quiet. So discreet, compared to his usual attitude.

“He should be there tomorrow, don’t worry about it.” Then, he grimaces. “But seriously, thank you for helping out today. I owe you.”

“Yes you do,” you say with a grin, bumping your shoulder against his, trying to lift the mood a little, because he sounds genuinely worried. “Just offer me the tea next time, and I’ll consider us even.”

Finally, a smile forms on his lips, and he shakes his head dramatically, putting his hand over his heart.

“No, I don't think I could ever repay you,” he says, and you laugh at his antics, like you always do. He looks a little appeased by that, and that’s a relief. “Your back must hurt,” he says. “Turn around.”

You raise an eyebrow, but do as he says, startling when his hands fall on your shoulders. They’re large, engulfing you easily, but they also move gently as he slowly massages you.

“Oh,” you gasp, leaning back into him. This is— good. This is very very good. For a few minutes — or maybe much longer, you couldn’t tell — you just stay there, eyes closed, lips parted, focused on the delicious feelings of his hands gently rubbing all the pain and soreness of the day away. When he stops, it takes you a few seconds to come back down to reality, and maybe, just maybe you miss the feeling of his hands. “Oh,” you repeat, rolling your shoulders slowly. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Jin says. “It’s kind of my fault.”

You turn around, shaking your head.

“Seokjin,” you say. “It’s fine. I didn’t mind helping.”

“You’re too kind,” he frowns. “You shouldn’t let people take advantage of that.”

“I’m not!”

Then Jin smiles, in a way that only lifts one corner of his lips, and suddenly you feel— you’re not too sure. Something seems to melt inside you, something moves in your stomach like you’re free falling. You probably should recognize the feeling. It’s not like it’s anything new to you, and yet you miss it. You do something you almost never do in that situation, and you take a step back. You glance up from his lips, shoot him a smile, and get up from the couch.

“It’s getting late,” you comment. “I really need to go home.”

Jin is on his feet immediately.

“I’ll walk you back,” he says, concern flashing in his eyes.

“I’m good. It’s not that far and I need to clear my head after, you know, everything today.” You’re not sure you know, but Jin nods, though a little reluctantly.

“You’re sure?”

“Very.”

He sighs. He doesn’t seem too pleased about it, but you guess he doesn’t want to insist too much, either.

“Give me your phone,” he says, and when you hand it to him, he types his number in, pouting as he explains himself to you. “Text me when you get home, alright? Otherwise I’ll just worry all night, because everyone is so unreasonable, and just wants me to lose sleep, and—”

You take your phone back from him with a laugh.

“I’ll text you,” you promise, briefly putting your hand over his. That feels— normal, you decide. It’s not like your hands have never brushed in the months since you’ve started frequenting the bakery. It just feels fine, and whatever there was before could just be a false alert. But then Jin looks into your eyes, and the feeling comes back.

“You better.”

You practically flee the bakery. You’re trying to make sense of the whole thing in your head, and it doesn’t go over great. You let Jin know you got home safe, and then do your best to push the whole thing out of your mind when you go to bed. You refuse to think about it too much. Not because you don’t understand what’s going on, but because somewhere, deep down, you do. This isn’t— this isn’t something you do. You fall hard and fast, that’s— that’s your thing.

Sometimes it’s nice, others it’s disappointing, but most importantly, it means that when the relationship is over, your life just goes back to what it was before. It you ever had feelings for a friend, someone you’re so used to having around… You’re sure it would truly break your heart.

July 15th

Summer is horribly hot this year. Fortunately for you, your favorite bakery has started serving ice cream. There is air conditioning in the store, but with the door constantly opening and closing, gusts of hot air regularly reach even you. No one seems too happy with the situation, with Jungkook seeming to slowly come apart under the temperature. Even Namjoon has abandoned ship, leaving much earlier than usual today. He waved at you when he got out, and you waved back.

Who knew, maybe the two of you would actually talk next time.

Jin uses a lull in the otherwise busy afternoon to drop at your table, and you smile to him. You haven’t really gone through anything like that night ever since, and you decided it was just a one time thing. You were tired from the work, and you were touch-starved, and, surely, there was nothing there, other than you gaining a new friend.

Yup. Nothing to see at all. Even when he’s sitting next to you, trying to fan himself with one of the bakery’s menus, head thrown back in a way that makes his Adam’s apple even more prominent.

You never thought yourself as someone who particularly enjoyed necks, but it seems you were wrong.

Not that that has anything to do with feelings, of course. Jin’s just hot. You already knew that.

“Hey, (Y/N), what’s your favorite cake?” he asks you.

It takes you just a second too long to answer.

“Uh. Anything that has strawberries in it, I guess,” you say, and he nods, but he’s also frowning. “Are my tastes not up to par?” you grin, raising an eyebrow.

“Clearly, your tastes are great, since you keep coming back,” Jin answers immediately, with the confidence that you now know to be mostly facade, but that you’ve still come to love. “No, strawberries are good. I can work with strawberries.”

“I actually wanted strawberries the first time I came here,” you reminisce. “But there weren’t any left because that was after Valentine’s Day.”

Jin clicks his tongue in disgust.

“Worst day of the year,” he says, “though February is a bad month for strawberries in general.”

“You don’t like Valentine’s Day?” you ask, and if you were a dog, your ears would be perking up with interest. You’ve always loved to hear people’s opinion on the holiday, because it’s so divisive. “You guys must make quite a lot of money…”

“I’m wounded that you’d think money is all I care about,” Jin sighs dramatically, though the glint in his eyes lets you know that he’s only joking. “It’s just very busy,” he admits. “It’s a lot of work to prepare, people place a lot of orders, and we basically don’t get a minute to ourselves. Not to mention— do you know what it does to a person to know that the food he lovingly prepared is probably going to be eaten off someone’s body?”

You can’t help it. You burst out laughing. When you do, you’re completely unaware of the fond way Jin looks at you. He’s always liked that he made you laugh, from the very first day you came into the store.

“No,” you admit, “no, I haven’t thought about it.”

“Well I have to.”

“I’m so sorry for you.”

“I’m sorry for me too.”

Then Jimin practically waltzes in and energetically greets everyone in the room, including you, and Jin gets up to serve him and Taehyung because Jungkook looks like he’s about to collapse, and you don’t give much more thought to the conversation.

But Jin remembers that strawberry cake is your favorite.

September 18th

Somehow, you get roped into helping Jin with his grocery shopping. He sat at your table and complained about how Jungkook wouldn’t be able to help him that week, and you voiced your sympathy, and next thing you knew, you were in the supermarket with him.

Well, maybe you’d offered your help. Maybe you just didn’t want to admit it because of that time he’d told you you were too kind.

“You know, I thought I’d be helping you for the bakery,” you comment, “but this mostly looks like it’s for you.”

“I am the bakery,” Jin replies, and you grin.

You watch him as he carefully crosses item after item of his detailed list. You expected him to be messy, to grab whatever he wanted, but he is as meticulous with this as he is with the baking he does for his customers. Which is— strangely endearing to you.

“Most of what we get comes in bigger orders,” he explains to you once he’s done with that aisle. “Sometimes, we find ourselves missing some things…”

“Like milk.”

“It’s always the milk,” he sighs, shaking his head it brings back bad memories. “But that’s not an issue for a lot of thing, unless something very specific comes up. Like a customer wanting  a pineapple pie.”

You tilt your head as he cautiously picks pineapples. You’re not even sure how you can tell if a pineapple is ripe, but he looks like he knows what he’s doing.

“That sounds… interesting?”

“It’s going to sound very interesting when I’ll make you carry half the bags,” Jin says, and you roll your eyes. Does he think you’re going to bail on him? You would never do that.

Well. Until your eyes fall on Minho, standing there, like he hasn’t simply vanished from your life six months ago. There’s a woman with him, and she’s laughing at something he said. You suppose she was the one he met — or maybe another one, there’s no way of knowing, really. But they look like they’re getting along well, and it— it makes you happy. You think.

“Huh,” you mumble. “That’s my ex over there.”

Jin looks up so fast you worry he might hurt his neck.

“What? Where? Do you need me to insult him?”

You’re about to say no when Minho turns around, and his eyes meet yours. He gives you a hesitant nod, and you think that’s going to be it, but then, after a few seconds of obvious inner debate, he makes his way towards you.

Great.

“(Y/N),” he says, a bit awkwardly. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” you reply softly and, much to your surprise, you mean it. You did your best not to let yourself miss him, but you suppose you did. It’s been a long time since you last saw him.

“This is, erm, this is Lisa,” he says, gesturing at the woman, who gives you a polite smile. It looks like she knows exactly who you are, and you suppose it must be uncomfortable for her as well. “My girlfriend.”

Yeah. You’d pieced that together. But then, Minho’s eyes move to Jin, and he raises an eyebrow, and you realize what he’s thinking about.

“Oh, this is—”

“Seokjin,” Jin says, extending his hand. “I’m her boyfriend.”

You’re sure that anyone looking at you can tell from your expression, from the way your mouth falls open and from the incredulous way you shake your head that that’s not true, but both Minho and Lisa are looking at him, and miss it completely. When Jin looks at you, he gives an imperceptible nod and puts an arm around your shoulders.

The warmth is— kind of nice. Maybe it even sends a shiver down your back, but you’re sure it’s because you’re still quite touch-starved those days.

Nothing else here.

“That’s great,” Minho says, and he looks relieved. “It’s great that you’re with someone.”

“Isn’t it?” Jin says before you can think of anything to answer to that. “She walked into my bakery and I just knew she would become my favorite client. Basically love at first sight.”

“Love at first sale, maybe,” you can’t help but answer, even if you know, reasonably, that you shouldn’t entertain him. You’re pretty sure he’s trying to show off in front of the two, which is really unnecessary, but you appreciate the gesture. “Jin makes the best cakes you can find in the whole town,” you tell them. Not to show off, but because it’s true. There are a lot of good things you could tell them about Jin, come to think of it. A lot.

“Maybe we should try it then,” Lisa says, smiling. She looks more relaxed than earlier, though you suppose she could also just be trying to get out of this conversation.

“Oh, it’s a must,” you reply sincerely, and Jin laughs, pulling you against his chest a little.

“She’s too nice,” he says, and you immediately protest that no, definitely not, he does, and you’re sure you look like a very annoying couple, because it doesn’t take long for Minho to clear his throat.

“Well, we have to go but it was— it was nice catching up with you.”

“Same,” you nod, and when he leaves, you can’t help but watch him. You don’t really feel anything right now. You were sincerely happy to see him, but it felt like running into a childhood friend you haven’t seen in a long, long time, and now have nothing in common with outside of those memories. Except it hasn’t been a life time since you last met him. Just a little over six months. Soon, he’ll just be someone you used to know.

You wish you were more upset by this. You wish there was anything that told you that what you had with him actually mattered. Instead, this vague indifference lets you know that your paths had probably diverged before the two of you even broke up. And that makes you kind of sad.

“Are you okay?” Jin asks. He has that quiet voice you’ve heard a few times now.

“I’m fine,” you nod, “but you really didn’t have to do that. I wasn’t— Minho and I aren’t— there really was no need.”

“I was happy to do it,” Jin says, and you notice how petty he sounds. “It’s always a joy to let an ex see how much better than them you’re doing.”

You laugh. You probably agree with him on that, but you’re not going to help feed his ego even more. Jungkook would probably never forgive you for it.

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like you doing that,” you observe, and Jin answers that remark with a blank stare.

“When have I ever said anything about a girlfriend?”

“Well, there was a bottle of shampoo at your place that—”

“So a guy can’t like having his hair smell like fruit, huh?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Wow, way to reinforce stereotypes, (Y/N). I expected more of you.”

He ignores your attempts at protesting and strides away from you. It takes you a few moments to catch up, because of his stupid long legs of his.

“If I had a girlfriend, I would never stop talking about her,” he lets you know while you’re catching your breath. “So don’t worry. You’ll know about it.”

“Duly noted,” you say. You maybe feel a little too happy about that new information so, to distract yourself from it, you change the subject. “So I’m your favorite customer?”

He scoffs and glances away from you, refusing to meet your eyes. He thought you hadn’t picked up on that.

“You’re a strong contestant, I guess,” he says reluctantly, and you laugh, not pushing it further.

“Anyway— Minho broke up with me a week Valentine’s Day,” you say. You’re not sure why. Maybe to let Jin that you’ve been over it for a long time.

“That’s rude,” Jin comments with a disapproving click of his tongue.

“He probably wanted to spend it with her,” you shrug. “When we got together, he told me he didn’t cheat. He left. So— I guess that was it.” Then there’s a laugh, and you can’t tell if it sounds bitter. You hope not. “I’ve actually never had a boyfriend for Valentine’s Day,” you confess.

The silence that follows is unusual for Jin. When you glance up at him, he’s just looking at you, and for a second, you think it’s pity you find in his eyes. But, from the way he frowns, you realize it could just be genuine sympathy.

“Would it make you feel better if I tell you it’s a terrible holiday that’s just there to sell things?”

“I already know that,” you chuckle, even if it does make you feel a little better. “I just want someone to buy me roses once, you know?”

Jin doesn’t answer, just looks at you, and something about the intensity of his stare makes you feel— feel things you told yourself you weren’t feeling for him. But then, you just ran into Minho, didn’t you? It makes sense that you would be all over the place emotionally.

“Anything more on your list?” you ask, and Jin blinks.

“Yeah, that way,” he says, sounding a bit off, but then he adds “More things for you to carry,” and you decide to brush it off.

But he stores the information in his mind. Strawberry cake and roses. Duly noted.

October 31st

“So do you actually like Halloween, or is this just another shameless cash grab for you?” you ask Jin when he brings you your tea.

You have to admit, him and Jungkook truly went all out for this. They’ve decorated the shop with pumpkins, and there are fake bats hanging from the ceiling. There are also themed cakes and chocolates shaped like spiders. It’s spooky, and it delights the kids that come in and ask the parents about it. You definitely appreciate the atmosphere it creates — and you also appreciate the way Hoseok jumped when he walked in front of the witch that lets out an evil laugh when someone passes the movement detector.

“Halloween is not terrible, I guess,” Jin says, like him and Jungkook don’t take a full day out of their schedules and bring in some friends just to decorate the shop. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” you answer sincerely, and Jin’s expression softens.

“Hey, we’re having a small get-together after closing tonight,” he tells you spontaneously. “Wanna join us?”

You take a second to answer. It’s not like you don’t want to — far from that — but there’s that voice inside of you that tells you that you’ve been weird around Jin, and you don’t want to be weird around him. You want to keep things as they are, because he’s such a wonderful friend to have around. You’d hate yourself if you changed that.

But if the point is to have him around, then surely, telling him no right now would be counter-productive, right?

“Absolutely,” you say with a smile, and Jin beams, and you feel all warmed-up inside.

You already know that you’ll have fun, and you’ll laugh, and he’ll insist on walking you him and you’ll tell him no. And it sounds exactly like how you want to spend your evening.

January 10th

You first meet Sungho on New Year’s Eve, at Hana’s party. The two of you click immediately, and you enjoy the familiar rush of feelings, the waiting for a text after you’ve given him your number, the anticipation of knowing where this is all leading, if everything goes right. After a week, you run into him at the bakery, or, well, you’re sitting in your usual corner when he comes in. He doesn’t see you immediately, but when he looks in your direction after a little while, you happily wave him over.

“You don’t usually come here, do you?” you ask him. “I would have seen you by now if you were a regular.”

He chuckles, flashes you a bright smile, and you smile in return. Sungho has a nice smile. He doesn’t laugh easily, though, from what you saw when you met him, which is a shame, but definitely not a dealbreaker, even if you love to hear people laugh.

“No, I saw you were talking about this place a lot online, and I figured I would come and check it out. Of course, seeing you here is the best part,” he adds with a wink, and he leans towards you a little. The obvious flirtation sends a wave of heat through your chest, and you don’t hesitate to lean forward as well, resting your elbow on the table and putting your chin on your hand. You enjoy the closeness, the proximity, the chase.

You pull away when Jin arrives with Sungho’s order.

“This looks great,” Sungho comments. “I’m glad (Y/N) advertised you so much.”

“Well, there’s a reason she’s our favorite customer,” Jin replies, smiling, and when you meet his eyes, they’re fond and— and something else that makes it hard to breathe for a second.

But the smile fades when Sungho takes a portion of his cake with the spoon and offers it to you.

“Wanna try it?” he asks, and you do, because you know everything Jin makes will be amazing. You’re not sure you love the gesture itself — it’s kind of cute, but you’ve also just met him and it feels a bit strange — but you still giggle and take the bite.

And all Jin can do is stand there, looking at the two of you. He feels something he has felt before, and it’s that he let something he wanted pass him by. He waited too long to make a move, once again, and once again, it’s cost him something he doesn’t know how he’ll live without, and now he’ll have no choice but to figure it out.

You glance up, and he catches himself, plastering a smile on his lips.

“Enjoy yourselves!” he says, a little too loudly, and he knows, from the way you blink and the puzzled look you give him, that you’ve noticed and it’s— it’s horrible. It’s horrible that you know him that well and that you’ve seen so many facets of him and you’ve chosen someone else. You don’t ask anything, though, and he’s quick to leave.

He’s also quick to ask Jungkook to replace him in the shop, and he, very deliberately, doesn’t ask anything about how things went. Doesn’t want to know if you kissed, or worse, if you left together.

He’ll be fine. It’s not like it’s anything he hasn’t been through before.

February 5th

You feel impossibly excited when Sungho asks you out for Valentine’s Day. You gush about it to your friends, a lot, and Hana is delighted for you — and very pleased that her circles of friends are meeting like that. Jungkook sounds happy, too, though slightly more reserved, but you get the type of enthusiasm you wanted from Jimin and Taehyung.

Jin gets quiet when you let him know, though. It’s not something you haven’t seen before, but it does take you off guard, because you’ve never seen it happen while in the shop, where he’s usually on top of his game.

“Are you okay?” you ask, worried, leaning over the counter to put a hand on his arm. “You look a little under the weather these days.”

He smiles, but it lacks his usual flamboyance.

“Valentine’s Day is coming,” he tells you. “The worst day of the year.”

You laugh at that, relax, and take your hand off. You miss the way his eyes fall on the place you were just touching.

“Well, not this year, hopefully. Not this year.”

Yeah. He’s not so sure about that.

February 14th

It’s your first time, ever, having a date on Valentine’s Day, and you’re determined to do everything right. Sungho is taking you to a fancy restaurant, so you decide there is no issue in going all out. You take the day to prepare yourself, enlist Hana to do your make-up and hair, and you use the opportunity to wear a lovely bright red dress that you had been saving for a special occasion.

Hana whistles when you come out of your room after you’ve also put on half-transparent black tights.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” she says with an appreciative nod.

You glance down at your body self-consciously and try to smooth the fabric of the dress. You do think it looks pretty good, but you could be wrong. Does it show too much of your legs? Does it hug your curves too tightly?

“You think he’s going to like it?” you ask, somewhat shyly.

“He should if he knows what’s good for him,” she replies, expression turning murderous, before softening. “Just… Are you sure you want to be doing that?”

You give her a confused look.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, going out with Sungho,” she says with a vague hand gesture. “I just— I don’t know. Do you like him that much?”

It’s funny. You haven’t really asked yourself that question. You’ve just been going through all the usual motions — the flirting, the dates, and, inevitably, the start of the relationship, which is probably for tonight.

“We— we get along fine,” you answer. “I like him.”

You leave the words ‘well enough’ out of that sentence. You like Sungho well enough. But then, that’s always been good enough for you, so why should it change now?

Hana seems to think about it for a little while, then shrugs.

“Okay then. Do you need my help to walk to the cab? I would not trust these things.”

She’s pointing at your heels, and it makes you laugh. These aren’t even that high, and they’re pretty stable. You don’t think you’ll have any trouble walking in them. Hana wouldn’t abandon her flat shoes to save her life, though, so you suppose the question was to be expected.

“You can just tell me if you want to hold my arm,” you tease, and it seems to take her by surprise, before she chuckles.

“You’ve gotten a little too good at that. I don’t know if I like it.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid Jin has infected me.”

That gives her pause, and she shoots you a weird look, but you miss it. She opens her mouth to say something, then gives up. She could be wrong, after all.

She kind of hopes she’s wrong, or that if she’s right, you’ll realize it soon enough.

The dinner is perfect. You’re dressed perfectly for the occasion, fitting right in the restaurant’s decor, Sungho complimented you when you walked in and you told him he looked great, which is true, the food is delicious, the conversation flows easily, and there are roses on the table. They’re not for you, part of the decoration, and it doesn’t look like Sungho’s gotten you any, which gives you just a little pinch of disappointment in your chest, but it’s also not a big deal. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

And you’re not happy with it.

You can’t place it, and it slowly drives you insane, as you and Sungho make your way through the meal. You try your best not to let it show, but you think he notices your increasing restlessness. You feel bad about it, because really, he hasn’t done anything wrong. You just— something’s not right.

Dammit. It’s your first time having a date on Valentine’s Day, and you can’t make it work.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Sungho says while the two of you are waiting for your desert, and you do your best to snap out of whatever is going on in your head to focus on him.

“Tell me,” you smile, though the smile is polite, rather than genuine.

He takes a deep breath and reaches over the table to take your hand. It’s far from the first time the two of you make physical contact, you’ve even kissed a few times, and it was nice, but something makes you want to recoil, in that moment. You don’t, though. Why would you? It doesn’t make sense. Nothing about you makes sense right now.

“I like you,” he says, and you find the breath knocked out of you. It’s not unpleasant, though, it’s very nice in fact, and it almost completely dissipates your previous discomfort. “And I think— you know. We haven’t said anything about being exclusive yet, so I figured I’d— ask.”

He looks pretty confident, which you thought would put you off, but it doesn’t. The answer seems obvious to you. It’s been just a little over a year since you broke up with Minho, which is a reasonable time, so your lips part to let him know that you’d be happy to—

It’s then that you remember. You remember what you told yourself after that break-up, and what you thought after the break-up before that, and the time before as well. You remember you told yourself you wouldn’t settle for less than what you really wanted. You told yourself you wanted to love and be loved. You told yourself you wanted someone who’d remember how you liked your tea.

And, just like in a movie, Jin’s face appears in your mind. You almost dismiss it, tell yourself it’s just because of the tea, until you realize it’s not. It just isn’t. You should have noticed earlier, you know that, but you’ve never been friends with someone before developing feelings for them. You’ve always told yourself you were an ‘all or nothing’ kind of person, that you were the type to know immediately if things could happen. Maybe you didn’t quite believe in love at first sight, but you’d always thought that love didn’t wait.

Apparently you were wrong.

Jin’s the one who inadvertently makes you pulse rush, when his hand brushes against you. Jin’s the one who lifts your spirits, no matter what. Jin makes you happy, makes you want to get up in the morning, has done that for months now. Jin actually knows you. Jin looks at you like you’re precious to him. Maybe that doesn’t mean love, maybe to him, it’s all just friendship, but to you, it’s much more than that. And the feeling you get is so strong, so powerful, that you understand that you need to tell him. Need to tell him now.

“I’m sorry,” you say to Sungho, who’s been waiting for an answer all this time. “I’m really sorry, I don’t think that can work out.”

His face falls, but he looks far from heartbroken.

“Oh,” he says. “Um. That’s—”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, already getting up from your chair. You’re buzzing with excitement, with feelings. “I have to go. I’ll pay for the meal, okay?”

“No, don’t—”

“Sorry!”

You stop at the counter briefly before rushing out into the night. You feel that you know exactly where you need to be.

You get to the bakery minutes before closing time, which is exceptionally at 9 p.m. for the day. A couple is just coming out, and that leaves only Jungkook inside. There’s nothing left on display, and you know it’s been impossibly busy, which means Jin is probably in a bad mood, but you can’t wait until tomorrow. When you walk in, Jungkook looks up from behind the counter, clearly surprised by the sound of someone coming in that late, and a puzzled look settles on his face when he notices that you’re out of breath, your previously perfect make-up now looking a little worse for wear.

“Is everything alright?” he asks. He sounds worried, and any other day you would take the time to reassure him, but in that moment you’re pushed by an energy that can’t be stopped, so you just nod quickly as an answer.

“Is Jin here?”

“In the back,” he says, tilting his head in that direction, and you’re pretty sure a glint of understanding lights up in his eyes.

“Can I….?”

He nods, a grin on his lips, and now you’re sure he knows why you’re here. You don’t wait for him to tease you about it, quick to make your way past him.

You freeze the second you walk into the backroom, though. It’s not just because of Jin’s back, though that definitely has more of an effect on you than you’d like to admit — the broad shoulders, the muscular back, and inexplicably, the nape of his neck. It’s also because of the large bouquet of red roses, standing in a vase on the table next to him. Your breath catches in your throat as you look at them. They look beautiful, vibrant, their fragrance floating through the room, all the way to you.

“Who are the roses for?” you ask, making Jin jump.

Any other time, you would have been pleased to take him by surprise for once, but right now you’re hanging on his words, waiting for an answer. The air feels heavy between you, and it doesn’t help that he doesn’t answer immediately, swallowing silently as his eyes travel over your body. You had almost forgotten about the dress you were wearing, and, instead of making you feel comfortable and confident, like it had earlier, you feel naked and vulnerable under his gaze.

Finally, his eyes meet yours, mouth slightly open, and by that point your heart is hammering in your chest. You wonder if he has any idea of how you’re feeling right now. Had he noticed your feelings when even you weren’t aware of them?

“What?” he croaks, voice dry, like he’s forgotten what you said.

“The roses,” you repeat. “Who are they for?”

You need an answer. Desperately.

Jin’s eyes move to the roses, and his face falls. He turns his back to you again as he goes back to whatever he’s cleaning.

“Didn’t you have a date tonight?”

You shrug, though he can’t see it.

“I broke things off with him,” you say lightly, and you don’t miss the way his movements pause, or the way his shoulders tighten, for half a second, before he keeps moving. “Are you— are you meeting someone?”

“No,” he protests immediately. “You know I don’t believe in Valentine’s day.”

You do. You remember that. So you wait for an explanation. It takes a while, and you just wait silently behind him, suspecting that he’s waiting for you to go away. After a few minutes, though, he slams his hand on the table, still not looking at you.

“They’re for you, okay? You said you’d always wanted roses for Valentine’s Day, and I figured, maybe your stupid boyfriend didn’t know that yet, and that I could maybe just drop them off at your place, and—”

“You didn’t ask me why I broke up with him,” you interrupt him, cutting his rambling short, and he falls silent. You catch his eyes from over his shoulder. Finally, you’re feeling yourself calm down, and at the same time you’re practically shaking with anticipation. “I realized I had feelings for someone else,” you say when he still doesn’t ask, just watching you, lips tight.

“…You do?” he simply says in reply. He’s tense, guarded, and you take a careful step towards him.

“Yeah,” you nod. Your eyes aren’t leaving his, not even for a second. “He’s smart, and kind, and handsome.” You take a step for each description you give, and you can’t help but smile on the last word. But your smile doesn’t reach Jin’s lips, and he’s just looking at you like he’s expecting you to tell him someone else’s name, or to make fun of him. “And he makes me laugh,” you add quietly, as you get to him, leaning against the table. “A lot. Some have even said it was a little too much.”

“So who is he?” he asks, and you smile. It’s wild to you that you haven’t understood earlier how absolutely head over heels in love with him you are, especially right now, when you’re standing so close to him. It’s also wild that he can’t see it, because you feel as though you’re radiating with that emotion, feel that anyone should be able to tell.

“It’s you,” you breathe out. “It’s obviously you.”

Then you’re pushing yourself up against his mouth, soft and slow. One of his hands closes around your waist as he leans forward, towering over you. His eyes are shut, and you close your own, reveling in the feeling of his warm body pressed against your own. You feel his tongue darting out to brush against your lips, and they part to grant him access, eager to taste all of him and—

“Couldn’t you tell me that earlier?” Jin protests loudly, tearing himself away from you, and your eyes snap open. “I would have planned the best Valentine’s Day you’ve ever—”

You groan and cut him off with another kiss, faster and harder this time, grabbing his wrists to guide his hands to your hips. You moan in contentment into his mouth when he kisses you back and he swallows it eagerly, pressing you into the table, bodies meeting like they’ve been waiting for it for forever and you—

“I wanted to make you an amazing strawberry cake! Now I don’t have any strawberries left!”

“Jin, please,” you sigh, unable to tolerate any other interruption, “would you just shut up and kiss me?”

And, finally, he does. Holds you like he never wants to let you go, kisses you like there’s no tomorrow, and when the two of you part, he rests his forehead against yours like he can’t bear the thought of being away from you even for a second. The silent stretches, comfortable, only filled with your respirations, until someone clears their throat, and the two of you jump away from each other.

“Sorry,”Jungkook says with a shit-eating grin that tells you he’s not sorry at all, “but I was about to leave. Will the two of you be okay?”

“I’m sure we can work things out without you,” Jin says. “Goodbye!”

But Jungkook doesn’t leave right away, turning his smile to you. You would hide into Jin’s shoulder, but you feel so good you can’t be bothered right now.

“Goodbye (Y/N)!”

“Bye, Jungkook!”

“That kid, I swear,” Jin says, shaking his head, as Jungkook leaves, his laugh hanging in the air behind him for a few seconds.

“I quite like him,” you comment, fingers dancing down Jin’s neck to come trace the border of his shirt.

“Oh, you do?” There is a dangerous edge to his tone and you glance up, surprised.

“Are you jealous?” you ask. “I didn’t know you were the jealous type.”

“I’m not.”

“Because it’s not Jungkook I abandoned my date for.”

“Good that you did. I never liked him.”

“So you are jealous.”

Seokjin mumbles something incomprehensible and you laugh and hug him tighter. And when he asks you if you want to come upstairs, even if he doesn’t have the perfect Valentine’s Day dinner planned, even if really, all he has to offer is himself, you tell him yes, of course.

Because he’s all you want right now.

It turns out, you wouldn’t have eaten the dinner anyway. The second the door closes behind you, you’re pulling him down against you for a kiss, and he doesn’t oppose any resistance, doesn’t protest like he did before, just lets out a moan into your mouth. He’s just as eager as you are to get rid of that tight dress.

“Careful with the tights,” you warn when his hands start roaming your thighs.

“Take them off then,” he groans.

You press a few kisses against his mouth, feeling delighted with the way he restrains himself, hands turning into fists against your hips as he stops himself from tearing off your closes. Finally, you pull away with a giggle. His eyes are wide and dark with desire, and they only get wider when you playfully slide off your dress’ strap.

“Don’t tease,” he says, practically growls, but you decide that you will. You guide him to his couch, push him down onto it, and evade him when he tries to pull you down with him, slipping out of his grasp. You stand just out of his reach, but more than close enough to be tantalizing, and you see in his eyes that it’s working just fine.

You take the time of making a show out of sliding down your dress down your body, letting it pool down at your feet before stepping out of it. The heels are the next thing to go, and then, finally, the offending tights. The second you’re out of those, Seokjin pounces, grabbing your hips and pulling you onto the couch.

“If you want us to move this to the bedroom, now would be a good time to say it,” he says as he kisses your neck, hands traveling up and down your body, large and calloused, but kind and gentle.

“I’m good here,” you say, arching your back to grant him better access — and to roll your hips against him. “Are you good here?”

You feel his breath catching in his throat when you move, as well as something hard pressing against you in his pants, and his voice is slightly choked when he answers.

“Yeah. This would happen at some point anyway.”

You laugh. You can’t wait to try this in all the places the two of you can think of in his apartment.

“Then let’s get to it, shall we?”

Jin doesn’t seem to have anything to answer to that, especially not when you hook your leg around his, using your heel to push him down on top of you. He’s still dressed, but you plan on rectifying that. You stop kissing him to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he lets you, breathing heavily. Your fingers explore the skin you reveal in the process, and you’re delighted when he shivers as you find out where his sensitive spots are — right under his collarbone, his nipples, his ribs.

Finally, the shirt joins your dress on the floor. You take a second to marvel at his body. His shoulders are even nicer to look at like that, you decide. You capture Jin’s mouth again, this time with your hands fisting his hair. You’re feeling yourself growing more impatient, wetter, and while your panties are the only thing still covering your body, he’s still wearing pants — which is far too much clothing.

“I want you so bad,” you whisper to him, and his breath catches in his throat.

“Fuck. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

That makes you grin, and you arch your back into him again, pressing yourself against his now rock hard crotch.

“Oh, I think I do,” you reply devilishly, and all Jin does is to bury his head into your neck. His fast breathing tickles your skin, and you love it. You love discovering that you have that effect on him, love how you can make him come undone. Another night, you might really, really enjoy teasing him about it, but you have something else on your mind tonight.

Your hand travels down his body to palm him through his pants, and he groans, bucking his hips against it involuntarily.

“Let me take care of that?” you offer, and he pulls away to raise an eyebrow at you.

Wordlessly, you guide him so he’s sitting on the couch, and then, without breaking eye contact, you drop to your knees. You watch as his eyes go wide and he swallows loudly. You don’t give him time to regain his composure, gently nudging his legs apart so you can place yourself there comfortably.

“Fuck,” he repeats as your hands travel over his thighs before unbuckling his belt.

He lifts himself off the couch so you can slide down his pants and underwear, and that leaves him in his naked glory. And boy, is he glorious, dick standing erect and proud, precum already dripping from the tip. You suppose it’s been a while since the last time he had any sort of intercourse, and so you decide that you will do everything that’s in your power to make it worth his while.

You do your best to maintain eye contact with him while you lean forward to gently take in the head of his cock, wrapping your red lips around it as your hand grips the base.

“Ah,” he gasps, and you wonder if he gets loud during sex.

You hope he does.

You mostly tease him at first, running your tongue over the tip, and you feel his hand grabbing the back of your head gently. He doesn’t try to control your pace or to push you down. He seems to just be anchoring himself as he lets you do whatever you want. Glancing up, you see that he’s thrown his head back and his mouth is hanging open, letting out quiet moans that sometimes get high-pitched.

For some reason, the sight of his exposed throat turns you on impossibly. You slide a hand down your body to try to get some relief as well, and you moan loudly when your fingers finally find your clit. The vibrations have Jin push his hips up as his hands tighten on you. A second later, his eyes snap open.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, “I don’t mind but— Do you have a condom somewhere?”

He hesitates, then reaches for the coffee table. He opens the drawer, rummages through it quickly, and finds what he’s looking for.

“Taehyung said it was good to have them all over the house, just in case,” he feels obligated to explain to you, even while he struggles to open it and to put it on.

Well, you owe Taehyung one, you decide, but now really is not the time to discuss that, so you pull him down for quick kiss before he can lose himself in his ramble.

“Want you now,” you tell him, and it sounds like an order.

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, pulling you back up onto the couch.

Your panties are soon gone, and he spreads your legs open with utmost care. Even if you’re pretty sure he could just slide right in, with how wet you are, he pushes a long finger inside you, then another.

“You’re so wet for me,” he marvels. “So wet, and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much yet,” you moan. “There’s still work to be done here.”

His eyes are full of love when he looks at you, taking in your body, now completely naked and offered. Just for him.

“Oh, I’ll do it. Don’t you worry about that.”

You’re about to call him out for his cockiness when he lines his cock with your entrance, tip rubbing against your folds, and you close your mouth instead, wisely choosing not to provoke him when he could so easily make you pay for it by making you wait. Except it seems he’s just as impatient as you, because he pushes himself inside you without pause.

You moan and shift to accommodate the stretch, and Seokjin goes still on top of you.

“Are you okay?” he asks. You’re satisfied with the strain in his voice, like knowing you’re not the only one to be so affected here.

“Hmm,” you hum. “Can you— move? A little?”

He pulls out a little, experimentally, and you moan louder than before. It takes you a few minutes to figure out the pace, as your hips keep moving, desperately searching for more friction, but they’re not unpleasant, filled with kisses, sweet nothings and the feeling of his warm skin against yours. In those moments, you feel like you’re discovering him all over again, and you find yourself enjoying that more than you can say.

Finally, you find yourselves, and the sound of skin against skin fills the room, along with your loud, high-pitches moans, and Seokjin’s — softer, quieter, but definitely there. You meet each of his thrusts, with one hand between the two of you to rub against your clit. When you first clench around him, he finally lets out a moan that’s as loud as yours.

“Fuck, fuck, fffuck,” he says, head falling against you, cheek pressed against your collarbone. “If you— If you do that again I’ll— Wait, please, wait, wanna— wanna cum with you—”

You arch your back, your nipples grazing against his chest, and force up the pace of your hips. Jin is moving incoherently, begging into your neck, and you want to give him exactly what he’s asking for. When you clench around him again, it’s with your orgasm. It’s all it takes to push him over the edge as well, but you barely feel his hips stutter into you, completely taken over by your own pleasure.

It takes you a little while to come back down from your high, and when you do, you meet his eyes. They’re soft and gentle, and, more than anything that’s happened until then, they make you melt.

“Hey,” he whispers, “you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, more than okay, in fact. You?”

“More than okay, too,” he says as a lazy smile spreads across his features.

“Good. That’s good.”

Pillow talk is not your forte.

“Hey,” Jin says, coming to rest his forehead against your shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You chuckle.

“I think I’m in love with you too.”

“That’s good,” Jin says, but his voice sounds choked up, raspy, and you know he’s probably blushing. So you don’t add anything, just run your fingers over his scalp, the nape of his neck, down his back. Let him know you’re here, that you’ve got him, that you’re not going anywhere.

“Are you— are you staying the night?” he asks.

“Sure, unless you’re kicking me out.”

His arms tighten around you possessively.

“I would never.”

It takes a little longer before Jin manages to get the two of you off the couch to go get cleaned up, and then into bed, but of that night, there is not a second that you would call unnecessary or superfluous. Not one.

Every single one of them, every moment you spend with Jin on that first night, are essential, and you could not pick one of them to take back.

March 14th

The bell chimes happily when you walk into the shop, and even though Jin is busy with another customer, his eyes immediately find you. It’s something simple, yet it’s something you love about him. The way he always seems to find you, and the pleasant warmth that fills you without fail when you see him. You’ve been told that it was just the high of the first months of a relationship, not to get too used to it but you hope that, even if it dims, it won’t go away completely.

“Hey, Jin, your ears are turning really red. Why are your ears turning red?”

You laugh while your boyfriend turns to shoot a furious look at Yoongi. He’s sitting in your spot, in the back of the shop, and he’s looking smug. That comment of his has become a pretty common thing to hear whenever you walk in, or just when Jin and you are speaking. To be completely honest, you’re not too mad about it. Jin is good at acting like you have no effect on him, but the blush betrays him, and it’s been both cute and useful to see what actually gets to him, or bothers him sometimes.

“I’ll kick you out of my shop if you keep that up!” Jin shouts at him. “Don’t think I won’t!”

But Yoongi just chuckles into his mug, clearly not taking him seriously — and he’s probably right for that.

“So, do you know what today is?” Jin asks nonchalantly after he’s turned back to face you, gesturing for Jungkook take over with the other customer.

Your eyes widen in horror.

“Please don’t tell me you want us to celebrate our one month anniversary. I haven’t planned anything for that.”

Jin rolls his eyes.

“I would argue that our one-month anniversary is tomorrow, if we’re being precise, because that’s when we, um, really talked about it.”

He’s not wrong. It had been a pleasant thing, to wake up in his arms the morning after, to the sensation of his lips gently kissing your neck, and an even nicer thing to take your breakfast with him. You couldn’t pinpoint why exactly. It had just been what had absolutely and irrevocably sealed the  deal for you. You knew it hadn’t been a mistake. You wanted to be with him.

“Hmm, but there is still some sort of anniversary to be celebrated tonight then,” you say, leaning over the counter. “I’m sure I could prepare something for that.”

His ears and neck flush, and Yoongi has the delicacy of not pointing it out this time.

“That’s not— That’s not what I’m talking about! Today is the white day.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“That’s when boys are supposed to give chocolates back to the girls they like,” Jin elaborates.

“But I didn’t give you chocolates,” you say.

“No, but you’re still the one who— Yoongi, I swear to God— You know. You’re the one who took the first step.”

Despite his recent outburst, it’s obvious that he feels embarrassed and vulnerable in that moment. You’d kind of gathered that he really regretted not asking you out before Sungho had, but you had never thought that it was actually an issue.

“I’m really happy I did,” you tell him quietly. He’s not fond of PDA, but you still allow your fingers to brush against his. That feels discreet enough.

“I know,” he says, and there’s so much love in his eyes when he looks at you that it’s a real miracle that you don’t melt into a puddle right then and there. “But I still—” He sighs. “You’re really ruining my plans. This was meant to go over smoothly.”

“Sorry,” you apologize with a wide grin while he picks something up from behind the counter.

“There,” he mumbles, handing you the box.

You open it, genuinely curious. You feel the eyes of everyone else in the shop — Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook and, of course, Jin — on you, and you want to tell most of them off, but you suppose that since this is where most of your relationship development happened, they’re kind of part of the story too.

The box is filled with chocolates shaped like roses.

“I know it’s not much,” Jin is quick to say, “but I just wanted to—”

“Jin?” you interrupt him.

“Y-yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

His eyes go wide, and then he sighs, but he can’t force away the smile that’s forcefully making its way on his lips.

“Well, if you absolutely have to—”

But he doesn’t protest when you pull him over the counter to kiss him, hands gently closing over your shoulders. He even brings you back for a second, even briefer kiss, and there’s something fierce in his eyes then. He superbly ignores the cheers that come from your friends in the room.

“I have to warn you, you’re never getting rid of me now,” he says, and it’s light-hearted, but you know there’s a lot of truth behind those words.

“Good,” you simply reply. “I wouldn’t want that for the world.”

He looks like he wants to add something to that, but he chokes on the words, and he falls quiet instead. It’s just as good, really.

There are some things you don’t need words for.

Some things that can be expressed just as easily with a box full of rose-shaped chocolates.

[purringsquid]

Part 3

If this part seems like there's a piece missing... yes it is, I did not want to do (sort of) a cliffhanger when I'm not sure when I will be able to write another chapter... also this is something the reader is trying to keep from Heimdall, so lets say she removed that from her mind

A soon as you appear in the Midgardian forest, you are immediately hit by the sense of a presence of a foreign god. It feels like a twirl in a water, pulling you closer to her world - a disturbing feeling to say at least.

Maybe you should have waited to sober up a little.

The goddess is rooted in place, Baldur’s doing, no doubt. You let a deep breath in and out, then release her.

“You leave for so long just to bring me a drunken child?” The foreigner says as soon as the spell is gone.

“He cannot hear you and I am older than he is.” You almost roll your eyes but decide to give the foreign goddess a one more chance for the sake of diplomacy. “I am Lady Y/N of Asgard and I am sorry to say, that your presence here might not be welcome at this time.”

“Forgive me.” The goddess changes her tone immediately, choosing a more polite approach to compliment your own. “I was caught off guard with your binding and forgot my manners. I am Athena of Olympus.”

“A Greek goddess.” You finish for her and (more importantly) for Baldur, so he can have the minimal context of your conversation. “We have not heard of your kind for decades if not a century.”

“We have been slaughtered by a mortal we took in our ranks.” She says, grief apparent in her voice.

“That is most unfortunate.” You bit through all the things that cross your mind but would be improper to say (for example that you are already missing the wine.) If you are fortunate, Athena was just trying to escape the slaughter and ended up in your world by accident and you will be sending her home soon.

“It is the same man I have followed here. The Ghost of Sparta.”

You swallow. That is exactly what you needed to spice up the very non-stressful time of being pregnant while your realm is at war with the realm of your baby-daddy’s mothers and your father-in-law is expecting for your child to be born nothing less than an A tier god.

“That’s- That is not good news to us, as you probably understand.” You want to continue your conversation but Baldur looks at you expectantly, so you fill him in before he asks you to, while the goddess – Athena – is speaking. “She came here with a living god-“

“Yeah, I know that.” Baldur says and you sigh.

“This god had killed the rest of the Pantheon. The All-Father should be alerted about his as soon as possible.”

“Oh, so that’s where the wine went.” Baldur wouldn’t like to hear it, but at times he is very similar to Heimdall. They only ever seemed to know when to shut up when the All-Father is around.

“Yes, boy, that is where the wine went.” Athena seems unamused but also unsurprised by his behavior, she had likely already noticed that he is not right in the head.

“And then we thought you are just ignoring us, so you don’t have to pay back your dept.” Baldur adds helpfully, before you can stop him.

“I’m sorry for-“ You start your apology but she interrupts you before you can finish it.

“Do not be. I would not put this behavior beside my fa- beside Zeus.” Athena takes the joke with gritted teeth - luckily for you - if she was to attack to defend the Pantheon’s honor you are not the one with an invincibility spell here.

“No, I beg your forgiveness, Lady Athena. My brother’s behavior is often unadvised, his mother had dropped him on his head.”

Baldur lets out a laugh. “I wish.” He mutters.

You ignore him. “But please, tell me more about this Ghost of Sparta. What are his intentions coming here?”

“He comes here to escape his past. Something I would not allow him to do, even if he could.”

“So, he does not come here to cause us trouble?” It is a long shot, but you still try.

“It is not his intention, but those matter little. It is in his nature to cause chaos and bloodshed.” The ever-present melancholy in her voice reminds you of your dance with Thor.

“Tell me more about him, what kind of a god he is, how could we find him?”

“He is a god of war as I am, but not the war led with reason and strategies, what he represents is the violence, the bloodshed that comes with it.“

You repeat her words to Baldur as she says them, she describes the man’s horrible deeds, how he had culled the Olympus as an act of revenge for the death of a family that he had killed with his own hands. It is all concerning but at the same time you cannot imagine that this man – who was born mortal – would be powerful enough to stand a chance against the All-Father or any of his sons.

“And why, if I may ask, did you follow him to our realm?” You ask her at last when her story is over.

“As I said; to never let him forget what he had done.”

“I will release you then, to your duty, good haunt.” You did not mean to say the past words aloud. You try to pretend the slip never happened, but Baldur’s laugh defeats that illusion.

“Farewell, Lady Y/N.” Her spirit disappears as she says your name, leaving you alone with Baldur.

“That was something.” Baldur says. “Mothers, I tell you-“

“Mother? I thought they were lovers!” You turn to him and swallow down the comment about him just projecting his issues.

“What? Nah, she talked about him like the All-Father talks about Týr.”

You replay the conversation in your head.

“Ah, no, she was not his lover, but a sister. She said he was a son of Zeus and before implied that she was his daughter too.”

Baldur seems puzzled and you don’t bother waiting for him to make up his mind before calling Munin.

He steps back, as the ravens surround you, likely staying to continue tracking the god. You can hear him speak, right before you leave.  

“Well, did that ever stop the Greeks? She could be all three.”

The laugh you let out is very undiplomatic, but he is right. She could.

______________________________________________________

You return to the sight of your husband and father-in-law sitting where you and Nana did, before you left, having a conversation about long gone wars, that you have no interest in. (If something, you’re glad, that Heimdall has someone else to share this interest of his with.)

“All-Father.” You bow. “I am ready to report.”

He sights, he really sights. “Does it require privacy?”

“Yes.” You say maybe a little too firmly to be talking with the All-Father. If he takes offense it doesn’t show (and if he did it probably would). Instead, he gets up.

You are ready to go, but before you do, Heimdall’s hand catches your wrist, pulling you down into a kiss. Judging by the taste of his mouth, he did finish the pitcher. The alcohol had made his cheeks rosy. It flashes through your mind that he might need to be helped to get back to the cabin.

But you have more important things to deal with now. (Also, it would be hilarious if he fell asleep here.) “I will be right back.” You say and follow after the All-Father.

You hurry so you catch up just as he enters his study.

“What is it?” The All-Father asks as soon as the doors are closed.

“A mortal-turned-god had apparently slain the Pantheon and then ran to Midgard, presumably to hide from his conscience.” You say in one breath.

The All-Father sits down in his chair, from his expression you can tell that he did not sign up to be dealing with this tonight neither. It takes him a while to speak. “A son of Zeus, I presume.”

“Yes.” You nod. “And a god of war too. The violent kind of war, apparently there are more kinds of war for the Greeks, the spirit Baldur had found was one too-”

The All-Father interrupts you. “I don’t need a lesson on their realm, girl, speak on the point.”

That hurt, but you comply and do speak on the point. “What Baldur had assumed to be a stray spirit turned out to be what is left of the slain goddess of war – Athena. She was able to give me information about the god himself but not about his whereabouts. Baldur stayed behind to track him.”

“You forgot to mention his name.” The All-Father points out.

Oh right. “Kratos of Sparta, the Ghost of Sparta by title.”

The All-Father nods, apparently recognizing the god’s name. Then he gives you a little fake smile, the kind he gives to Forsetti when he flexes his studies. “You did good on reporting me in private, we would not want any word of this to be overheard and spread an uninformed panic. The townsfolk are horrible sometimes.”

“Thank you All-Father.” Fake smile or not, it feels nice when he praises you, he’s the All-Father himself, after all. “From what the dead goddess had said, there should be no immediate danger. The outlander’s main goal is to hide.”

“Good, but he should be dealt with as soon as possible, nevertheless. Tell Heimdall to keep an eye on Midgard, might Baldur lose his trail. Actually, tell him to keep an eye on Baldur too, when he’s there, the boy is impetuous, and I would prefer not having Nana sewing him together – again.”

The visualization of his last words makes you shiver. “Yes, All-Father.”

“If that is all, you are dismissed.” The All-Father urges you to leave.

“I-“ It is not in fact all, but you really fucking wished it was. “Might I sit down?”

For a second you were afraid that you had pissed Odin off, as his expression turns dark, but then it relaxes again and he gestures to a chair. “Of course, go on.”

The chair he points to is, ironically, the one Ingrid is hanged on. The sword gives an encouraging whistle, as you sit down. You pretend that did not happen. But you are glad for it, you wish to lay your hand over the sword for comfort, but that would make you look bad. Just thinking about it makes you look bad and if Heimdall was present he would probably cause a scene about it

“What is it, child?” The All-Father asks.

______________________________________________________

The All-Father dismisses you and you leave his study waiting for the feeling of weight being pulled off your chest, but it never comes. You feel as tense as you did when you entered, still waiting for him to call you back to tell you that he by the way, decided to send Thor to your home and kill everyone for lying to him.

And worse, you wait for Heimdall to appear and happily announce that he finally has a reason valid enough to get rid of you, like the asshole he is… You remember how happy he was this morning about your pregnancy. You could get used to having that man around (and you already did), even though he is an asshole. Fate is an evil little cunt.

“It sure is.”

You still as you hear your husband’s voice, your head jerking his direction barely in time to see him appear in front of you, grinning. How much did he hear?

“Nothing much, only that you love me and fate is a slut.” He presses you to a wall with his body, his hands all over you. He reeks of mead – Thor level reeks of mead. “Are you keeping secrets from me, Y/N?” He looks into your eyes and his hands run up your waist and to your breast, one of them finding its way to your cleavage.

“Get off me, you reek!” You push him away, which he surprisingly lets you, but as soon as you are standing firmly at your feet, his arm wraps over you, pushing you forward the Great Hall. “What are you doing? Heimdall?!”

“You wanted to dance.” He says in a way that is probably an attempt to sound charming but the smell breaks that. “Keep begging for that, ‘oh husband, would you dance with me, pleaaaaaseee.’” You never said that. “’Or I will drool all over your brothers again to get your atenttiooooooon.” You might have done that a few times.

“Very funny. But I wanted to dance with a Heimdall who can walk straight!” You wrap your arm around him in return, not to show your affection but to force him to walk a little straighter.

“I will sober up, five minutes tops.” There is so much determination in his voice he must truly believe it. “Of course I believe it, I can see the future!”

You manage to walk him to the Great Hall, through the still very lively crowd and sit him down to the table with no major incident, which is a miracle. You even manage to ask the server for water as you do so.

When the water comes, you push it into his hand and he drinks it without complaint. “Good boy.” You praise him. It was meant to be a mockery but he lays his head on your shoulder and says:

“I will regret that tomorrow but say that again.”

You chuckle and rub his hair. “Nah. You’re not actually a good boy, you’re just embarrassing.”

“I object, I’m the only one of the All-Father’s sons present that did not puke on anyone today.”

“Heimdall.” You take a mug from the table, emptying it on the ground before pouring mead in it and taking a long sip. “If your competitors are Thor and Baldur, then you are a good boy.”

He purrs, he literally fucking purrs! The Golden Guardian of the Asgard just purred because you called him a better boy than his brothers. You take a long sip of mead and try not to think about the implications.

“Whose blood is it?” You ask, pointing at his chest.

“Baldur’s.”

“Is he back already?” You remember, that you are supposed to tell him his orders… and repeat them in the morning probably.

His hand runs up and down your thigh. “No, it’s from before, when I punched him. You were there.”

Right, you completely forgot about that. “The All-Father asks you to keep an eye on Baldur and any sight of his target.”

 “He is fighting a bear right now, I don’t think he is catching the guy any time soon.” That was the longest time he ever spoke about Baldur without insulting him, maybe he should drink more often. He had to hear you think that because he adds: “Fuck you.”

You answer only by finishing off your mead and pouring another. You wish you were drunker and did not feel the secondhand embarrassment radiating from your husband right now.

“Speaking of hands.” He chuckles, lifting his hand so you can see his bloodied knuckles. “That one is from Modi!”

“Wow.” You make that sounds as unimpressed as you can. “You beat a boy whose balls dropped like yesterday! Congrat-fucking-lation.”

“The other one was from Magni but I already wiped that into your dress.” He says with all seriousness showing his other hand that… he really wiped that into your dress fucking son-of-a-whore.

You try to hit him but he evades it by standing up (and he does so surprisingly gracefully, considering how he looked a moment ago). He offers you his hand with a little performative bow. “My lady, if you want the dance get your ass up, because I stop the moment I sober up.”

You sigh and take his hand, at least he’s a nice drunk today (which only happened once before and you have known him for five years now, usually he is an even bigger asshole.) As you stand up, you realize that neither of you is capable of walking up the wall tonight. You will have to kick Forsetti of your former room and deal with angry Nana in the morning.

Heimdall does not bother getting any closer to the other dancers and just takes you in his arms where you are, pulling you very very close. You can barely hear the music but he doesn’t seem to care as he leads you into a dance.

update alert @imllsn

Heimdall x wife reader, fluff

Heimdall is uncharacteristically nice to you this morning. Part of this series

You have left him sweet rolls at the table before joining him in bed last night, the ghost of his aunt had told you those were his favorite. You fully expected him to eat it and only mention it months later during an argument, if ever.

So, it surprises you when you wake up and he is still by your side, sitting on the bed fully dressed and crumbling the said rolls all over it.

“Look at it, the pillow princess finally decided to wake up.”

You blink at him.

“You’re cleaning that, sunshine.” You murmur into the sheets, turning around and closing your eyes again, so you don’t have to look at him – and to irritate him, which is a success.

“Yes, turn over like the entitled sponger with no work you are.” You had only returned before dawn last night because you were working for his father.

“Don’t you have a walk to take or something?” You answer, hugging on the blanket. “People to annoy?”

He lays next to you, pinning his chest to your back, the heat of his body warming you. The affection is rather uncharacteristic for him. Is it possible that he might have been – perhaps – missing you?

“Don’t be so sentimental, I would sell you for a new pair of bracers if they were cool enough.”

You feel something at your lips, you open your eyes with zero trust for your husband, only to see a piece of pastry being pushed to your mouth. You accept it. It’s sweet and soft and nice.

“And yes, I do have a work, which I am now skipping for you. So be grateful.”

The food drastically improves your mood, so you indulge him. “And how does it come I – the wife you would sell for cool bracers – deserve that honor?”

 “For one, I appreciate a good breakfast.” He pushes another piece past your lips. “Mother told you, didn’t she?”

“Mm-“ You fail to answer with your mouth full, so you turn your head, looking into his eyes, letting him read the positive answer from your mind.

“Tell her I love her.” He says that with the same hurried tone he uses to insult people. “But it’s still creepy, anyway, I have something better than that. Something about you.”

“And what would that be?” You have spent the previous days trying to convince the elves that their ancestors wished for them to stop fighting (hardly believable) and pay their taxes (impossible to believe). Cuddles and food to bed were amazing, but you could use some silence at the moment.

“You guess.”

A crumble falls on your face, as he takes a bite and you are suddenly overtaken by an uncontrolled rage worth only of a goddess, which he has to notice because he picks it up with a chuckle and even goes as far as bothering to throw it away from the bed.

“I guess you wouldn’t be so nice to me, if I was being a creepy cunt again, so I guess the All-Father had finally allowed you to divorce me.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck and you can smell mead on his breath. What time was it? “No.”

“So, you spilled it into some mortal cunt again and this time you have to bring it here.”

He laughs on that. “Almost.”

His hand goes under the covers, pulling you closer to him, his fingers dancing across your chest, until they stop on your breast, giving it a squeeze. At this point you have already gave up any hope of sleeping, so you turn around to face him.

“Whatever it is, do you really need me to summon the council of the dead to help me figure that out.”

For a second you are not sure if he is shocked or amused, then amusement wins. “You’re no fun.”

“Objection.” You could have let that go, but when he can be petty, so can you. “I’m hilarious, at least when your horny ass doesn’t wake me up after working until dawn-”

Without a warning, he pushes the rest of the roll into your mouth, silencing you and making an awful mess on the bed at the same time. This behavior explains why his cabin has a whole ecosystem of mice, rats, worms and moths.

“You’re right, making you guess was not a good idea. It’s better when I’m the one talking.”

You look into his eyes while trying to chew through the pastry. ‘No, it’s not’.

He chuckles and pulls up your tunic, until your breasts are revealed. The look he gives them seems more like a one of a pubescent boy than a grown man, let alone a centuries old god, who uses every chance he has to get his cock out. He slides with fingers across your waist and chest and gently squeezes your nipples, making them harden.

“Well? I can see you’ve already figured it out.” He says after you finally manage to swallow it all.

You sight. “Were you really waiting here for me to wake up, just to make me say it?”

“I did have an internal debate about whenever I should wait or just shake you awake screaming ‘bitch, you’re getting fatter than Thor’.” Despite knowing better, you laugh. “But now I want to hear you say that you are – to quote with contextual adjustments - the immortal cunt I spilled into this time”

“I know those are my words, but vulgarities look bad on you, darling.”

You try to sit up, but he pushes you down before you can. So, you give him this moment, wrapping your hands around him, as he kisses your lips. The kiss is long and deep and uncharacteristically affectionate.

When he finally lets you go, you shamelessly ruin the mood. “Congratulations for knocking me up. Can you see if it’s a boy or a girl? Or what kind of god will it be?”

“No.” He seems nearly joyful and you wonder if his mead got spiced with something. He pokes at your chest. “As I said, I only see you getting fat. Very fat. Like Thor fat.”

He kisses you again, his hand running down your body between your legs. You catch it with your thighs.

“Let’s not tell them yet.” You say. “I want at least one good sleep before a having a party thrown in the honor of you fucking your wife for once.”

A totally unexpected "twist" no one asked for, I know. This is a part one of this chapter, the next one will be during the party. I'm thinking about naming this chapter "calm before the storm" on ao3 😈

[yoongsisbae]

Handshakes of a Lifetime - Chapter 6

BTS soulmate AU. OT7 x reader / Taehyung x reader focused in this chapter, slight Jungkook x reader and Namjoon x reader

Usually by the time I finish a chapter, I will have a nice chunk of the next chapter done, when I finished chapter 5 I had TWO SENTENCES FOR THIS CHAPTER cries, ugh this was a journey lol but I had fun along the way :). Also, I wanted to shoutout @missseoulite I remember having a really bad day when I saw your sweet comment about being eager for the new chap and just knowing someone cared enough to wish me safety and care about my well being, well it meant a lot to me, so this chapter is dedicated to you my dear!!!! <3

Word count: 10.3k

Warnings: death, mention of a suicide, if you’re like me and don’t like to think about being old this chapter might trigger an existential crisis lol, cheating, men being sexist, angst but also fluffiness, sex with Taehyung, breeding kink, a character calls you and Tae children but you are two very grown adults I just wanted to make that super duper clear.

---

“I want to try, I think it would be worth it, you’ll be worth it.”

‘Why did he have to say that,’ you wince, looking over at the idol. He is beautiful, way out of your league, above you in every way, and he’s looking back at you like his whole world hangs in the balance. How could you reject him now. You groan.

You stand up. You place your palm in front of his face, your fingers splayed out, you can see his wide excited eyes in the gaps between them. You look at him expectantly. Taehyung nods, places his palm to yours, interlocking your fingers together.

Your heart thumps wildly as darkness fills the room. You open your eyes once you hear the familiar voice of your husband call out to you, “No need to fret anymore, my beloved. I’m here now.” Taehyung’s hand covers your old and frail fingers. You lie in your bed, body tired and weathered from all the years you’ve spent on this earth.

Your eyes roam over the room, taking in all the faces of your beautiful children and grandchildren. The pain in your tired joints fades as you focus on the man you’ve only grown to love more in all the years you’ve been together. It’s because of him you’ve lived a fulfilled life full of love. With him by your side you’re ready now.

You look up from your crouched position, the flowers you’ve picked lie fresh and pretty in your basket. You look to the dirt path where a man is running towards you. ‘What is a man doing here of all places?’ you think.

He comes to a stop once he sees you, hands on his knees as he gasps for breath. He looks young and beautiful, though his robes are askew and torn and his face glistens as sweat drips from his chin. You almost decide to ignore him and go back to your duties until you notice the red lines that peak from the uncovered parts of his torso. The cuts look painful. You hesitate, “Do you need some assistance?”

“Don’t mind me, fair maiden,” his breathing is still heavy as he speaks. He looks around, taking in his surroundings. ‘What is he looking for?’ you wonder. You can tell he is trying to hide his panic, but it comes through in his tense movements and jittery eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

Four men on horse approach you. You notice they are soldiers by the gold plates that cover their body. You hold the flower basket a little tighter to your chest. The first soldier speaks, “Have you seen a man come through this way?”

“You’re the only men I’ve seen for days.”

You feel their lewd stares on you, your stomach churns from the unwanted attention. One soldier dismounts his horse and stalks closer to you. “A pretty little thing like you wouldn’t dare lie to us?” he questions.

“I swear on goddess Athena.” You stand still and look to the ground as he invades your space. The soldier brings a calloused hand to your chin to make you look at him, his companions snickering at your discomfort.

“For days? You must be lonely, poor sweet thing you are.” The other soldiers dismount and circle you. You try to keep your face neutral from the disgust you feel as their eyes rake over your body.

“It is as I said,” your eyes shift to the marble walls of the temple behind you. “I would not lie in Athena’s name, I am protected by her watch.” You emphasize your last words, keeping your limbs close and suppressing your instincts to fight and draw this encounter out any longer than need be.

The men look over to the temple and begin to move closer to the entrance. You follow after them, dropping your basket and letting the flowers scatter into the dirt in your haste.

“No men shall enter, unless you want to face the wrath of the goddess herself,” you yell from behind them. The men laugh. You find the courage to pull at the leader’s armour to cease his advancing. “You will be cursed if you go in there, sir!”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide as he hides underneath the blanket you’ve covered him in. He removes his hand from the temple’s wall, and brings his knees up and off the floor, trying to touch as little as possible of his surroundings.

The men scoff at your words, the leader shoves you away but does not advance any closer. You’ve taken up enough of their time, and they need to find this criminal before The Queen bestows her own kind of punishment upon them.

“Be careful, girl. There is a dangerous man fleeing prosecution, pray to your Goddess we find him before you do.” You find their warning quite ironic as you watch the leader kick your basket. You assume in an attempt to be intimidating, but in your opinion it makes him look more like a petulant child, your brow ticks in annoyance.

Only when they are completely out of your sight do you let go of the breath you were holding. You run into the temple, crashing into the stranger as he runs out.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaims, his hands grabbing onto you to keep you from falling. Electricity zips through you as you both break away stunned. You rub at your arms to take away your goosebumps. The stranger lowers the hand that clutched at his chest, his wide eyes looking at you in question.

“Is it true? A curse is the last thing I need right now!” he laments. You giggle. The soldiers called this man dangerous?

“The rules say no man is to enter, yes.” His horrified expression makes you laugh even more. “But...they are more like guidelines,” you assure him. “Enough temple priestesses have brought their fair share of men back and nothing too sinister has happened yet, by the gods.”

It does little to lessen his worry. He looks at you skeptically. “I thought Athena’s priestesses were supposed to stay virginal in honor of the goddess’s protection.”

“Oh,” you offer him a smile, “that is her protection. It is perception that protects us.”

You eye the man, his features are sharp, striking; almost intimidating; but his aura is quite soft. “...protects us from men. In this world there are very few true heroes, I’m afraid most only live inside songs.”

He looks at you in understanding. “My apologies, you had to deal with those soldiers alone. I couldn’t do anything to defend you.” He winces at the thought, “For you to have shielded me instead, I thank you.” He offers you a deep bow and you feel butterflies dance in your chest.

“Can I ask as to why you’re running?”

He looks to the direction he came, unable to meet your eyes. “Ahh, well...I am in poor favor with The Queen.”

Your eyes widen, you’ve heard rumors of her beauty even in the remoteness of your area, and even more of her kingdom’s hedonism. The man in front of you is truly beautiful. He could be one of her lovers, you think, he most definitely looks the part. His robes though now disheveled are of expensive fabric and show off his lean body, and the way he holds himself you can’t imagine him to be a common worker. “So, you and The Queen, I see...”

“Oh! It’s not what you think...I’m a mere poet. I sing to The Queen and her Court, but she suddenly wanted more of me than I am willing to offer. I-I rejected her.”

Your eyes widen again. “That was most unwise.”

He smiles, his eyes cast down. “I can bear the weight of my faults. I plan to leave to another province.”

“You’ll rather leave your home? But it is The Queen!”

“As you can see, there is punishment in denying The Queen of her desires.”

You’re astonished. “I can’t imagine being with her to be so horrible you’d choose to run instead, give up all you’ve acquired?”

“I rather give myself to someone for love.”

You feel your heartbeat quicken at his words, ‘so idealistic.’ You’ve never encountered an individual with such delicate presence, a trait you find most unconventional. A smile pulls at one of the corners of your mouth, “Aphrodite must favor you.”

Taehyung laughs, his eyes softening, “Thank you again, someone must favor me to put you in my path.” His warm dark eyes hold your gaze. “I mustn’t stay too long…”

“Yes, of course! Well then…” You falter in your farewell. He struggles with the decision to leave. Taehyung knows he must, The Queen’s soldiers could come riding through again at any moment, and he doesn’t want to think of the punishment they would bestow upon you if they learned of your lies, so why can’t he seem to let go of your company?

He notices the trampled flowers littered on the ground around you, the colorful petals lay beautiful and ruined, a fate he worries will become yours if he doesn’t make haste. He picks up an unbroken blossom. “Thank you again.” He places the flower in your palms, a warmth spreads over you through your fingertips as you hold your breath in reverence. His thumbs stroke your fingers gently, and then he nods at you one last time and moves to run again. You feel a pressure building in your throat, unready to bid him farewell, and you don’t understand why this man whom you’ve just met is affecting you so. His kindness and his gentleness makes your body yearn to learn more. What can you do, he’s a stranger and not yours to keep, you must let him go.

His flower stays cradled in your hands, you feel your chest tighten more and more with each step he takes that brings another stretch of distance between your bodies. Your limbs itch to move. What should you do? It is what you want to do that makes you so afraid. You silently ask Athena for guidance. It is only when he turns past the treeline and out of sight that you can’t take it any longer.

You run into the temple. You race to your small quarters, and gather anything you deem valuable, not very much. Pushing down the thoughts that tell you you’re acting crazed and without reason, you fasten your belongings to your body. You race out of the temple's entrance and crash once again into a body that jolts your nerve endings with an undeniable energy. You stare into his eyes once more, the man you saved. He looks down at you, eyes wide with surprise but full of mirth.

A horse carries you and Taehyung farther North. You travel in comfortable silence, as your hands rest snugly around his waist. After riding with him for so long, you are no longer shy to hold him, accustomed to being pressed up against his back. You listen to the steady rhythm of horse hooves against the earth. It is peaceful and you find yourself smiling against Taehyung’s back.

The bright lush green landscape turns dark and threatening as the two of you ride past an abandoned village. The wooden wreckage smolders still. You gasp at the sight, so many homes lost. Taehyung taps the horse’s body with his foot to quicken its step.

“Stop!” You yell at Taehyung once you notice a shift amongst the rubble. You jump off before he properly stops his stead, running towards the wreckage to confirm what you thought you had witnessed.

Taehyung runs after you, warning you to be careful. Once you reposition a large plank of wood, you gasp at what you see. There’s a bleeding old woman pinned underneath, still alive. You call for Taehyung’s help, the both of you pulling her as delicately as you can manage from beneath the rubble.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive, it’s a miracle by The Gods.” Taehyung holds the old woman’s hand as you run to the horse to fetch a canteen of water.

“Oh, a miracle yes,” the old woman coughs out, “fate has blessed me after much burden.”

You work to clean her skin of dried blood and ash, offering her water to drink. “What can we do to help?”

“My walking stick, it is most important.” Her eyes stay closed shut in pain, as she gestures to the place you’ve pulled her from. Taehyung rummages around until he pulls an item from the wreckage, an impressive staff decorated with gold markings and a large green gem adorned at its apex.

The old woman offers Taehyung her gratitude, feeling much more at ease she opens her eyes to look at the pair of you. You stare into the old woman’s clouded grey eyes in surprise.

“Thank you child, but hurry, the rain will wash the flames away, but will halt your journey for the day.” Taehyung looks upwards at the old woman’s words, white clouds are traveling across the bright clear blue sky.

You can’t leave the blind woman alone after everything she’s been through. “If it’s going to rain, please let us take you to the next village for shelter.” She nods and walks staff in hand towards Taehyung’s horse.

“Only a bit further, we will make it before it rains,” the old blind woman promises. Sounds of thunder echo faintly in the background. The sun is no longer out, hidden behind dark grey storm clouds. You shiver and rub the exposed skin of your arms for comfort next to Taehyung as the two of you walk next to his horse. He grasps your hand and pulls you closer to him. He radiates warmth. You never know how to react to his kind gestures. You look up at him and meet his gaze, sending him a shy smile. He rubs his thumb on your knuckles, smiling brightly back. If his intentions were to make you warm, he succeeded, your heart feels full.

“This is a farming community. They are a kind people who serve Demeter, the two of you are safe here,” At the old woman’s declarations you and Taehyung look at each other, exchanging unspoken words.

“This is where our paths must diverge. If you continue to follow this road, you’ll find sanctuary for the night, I promise.” Taehyung helps the old blind woman down from his horse. “Thank you again, children. I don’t have anything to offer you in return for your help, but I can give you some words of wisdom.” She smiles kindly at you both.

The old blind woman still holds Taehyung’s hand in hers. She turns his palm upward, her fingers trace the lines of his hand. You watch her curiously. “Ahh, your soul holds so much talent, you’ll find it’s both a blessing and a curse.” You giggle, Taehyung shoots you a look, his lips curving into a half smile. “Ahh, you know of it already. In the future, you’ll have a great choice to make, I can’t choose for you, but as someone who's lived many years and knows how dreadful and gray the world can become, my advice is to choose the path of love.”

“Always,” Taehyung’s eyes cast a look over to you and you feel shy once more under his gaze.

She brings her hand to Taehyung’s face to pat his cheek. “Dear child, too beautiful for your own good. It won’t be easy for you, for either of you, this path before you. Hermes wings have found your heels, you won’t find much rest in this life.” She looks sympathetic as her head turns towards you.

“Much like the universe has brought you to me, I see destiny is not a stranger.” She smiles at you knowingly. You hold your breath as she reaches for your hand, studying your palm alongside Taehyung’s. “Your souls...they have been linked together. I see the red string of fate wrapped tightly around you both.”

You find yourself wanting to believe her. Her words seem heartfelt and true, and you can’t deny her strong aura despite her fragile appearance. You catch Taehyung’s eyes again. Has he been looking at you this entire time? She continues, “This bond you have is quite unbreakable, not even death can cut what tethers you together.” She studies your hand more carefully, “Ahh, peculiar...”

“Do you see something worrisome?” you ask, concerned.

“It is nothing to worry dear, you have much love that surrounds you. Let yourself love. There will be those who will try to keep you apart, but take it from an old old woman, love is a stronger force than even the gods can imagine. It glitters brighter than gold and gives you riches greater than Kings. In the end, you’ll find a way.”

You think of her words all night. You look over to your companion, he sleeps peacefully next to you. Do you love him? Is this love? Is he your destiny? You pray to Athena for answers, but only more questions arise in your mind.

You think to the day you first met him, the memory bringing a smile to your face. You left with him, in the end. It was you who found the courage to ask him to take you with him, on the premise of wanting to see the world while moving to another temple. You expected him to let you down gently, you remember his hesitation still, but instead he had not refused you, and you have been traveling with him ever since. Being with Taehyung filled the holes of loneliness that punctured your existence before meeting. Your world had been small, consisting only within the temple’s walls. Now your world feels infinite, it’s thrilling and terrifying, and at the center of it all is Taehyung, gentle and kind and sincere in his affection.

---

You are jostled from your sleep. Taehyung pulls you gently from your bed, his lips placing tender kisses across your forehead as he pulls you to your feet. “I’m sorry, we have to leave again.”

This is not the first time you've had to run, or the second or third. So you pack the things you cannot part with and say goodbye to the rest.

Taehyung, the beautiful poet with a voice that can capture any audience's attention, has always been able to afford you both a roof and a meal. Taehyung’s performances become the talk of whatever acropolis you find yourself in, and his fame grows until his looks and voice catch the attention of someone too important to ignore. Fame is a wonderful thing until it becomes too much, too demanding, and all too quickly can Taehyung’s admirers turn into attackers, vilifying his every action. When that happens he decides to run, and you follow. You worry if it goes on like this you’ll have no more places left to run to.

You liked this place the most, it pangs your heart to lose your home again, but you know your true home is in Taehyung’s arms. You pack as many mementos of this place as you can carry, and hold the rest of your memories close in your heart.

---

“Like this,” you pull your bow back and look to the trees ahead where three pheasants sit perched. You choose the biggest bird and aim your arrow. You make sure Taehyung is studying your form and then you let the arrow go. The bird squawks sharply before falling to the ground, and the others scatter to the sky.

“See!” you laugh at Taehyung’s astonished face.

“How are you so much better at this than me?” The poet whines as you hand him back his bow and arrow. You laugh again. You and Taehyung have been learning to survive by yourselves through trial and error, more error than not. You’ve never had to hunt for food before, but you quickly found yourself skilled, and you think it’s quite fun. At least when you’re not starving, stomach already full from fresh berries Taehyung had picked for you to share. He had picked you flowers as well. They sit in your hair in an intricate pattern after you complained to him you couldn’t eat flowers. You slowly remove the arrow bag from around your neck, so as not to ruin the halo he so carefully crafted.

“I caught it, so you cook it,” you tease.

He brings your hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “That, my fair maiden, I can do!”

---

It is late and Taehyung has not arrived home. His performance should have been done hours ago. You try not to let your thoughts wander into the dark depths of your worst fears as you settle into a restless unease. Your home is quiet and still, too quiet. You keep your ears focused as you wander around the house.

It goes from quiet to chaos too quickly, you hear shouting in the distance. A hand grabs your mouth before you can scream, you start to kick but strong arms hold you tightly. Taehyung shushes you as he pulls you to the back entrance of your home.

You’re running into the woods with the poet, he pulls you to the ground and holds you beneath him. From the bushes you watch men with swords circle your house. You feel violated as you watch them enter your home. Crashes inside make you flinch in Taehyung's arms. “We’ll go back to fetch our things once they leave,” he shushes you.

The soft warm glow of your house becomes bright, light filling up the night sky as a fire breaks out and the men continue to destroy your home. Taehyung covers your mouth to stifle your cries and holds you close to him, whispering countless apologies. You can only whimper in his arms, your shoulders shake in grief as you watch everything you own go up in flames.

When you first came to this place, you and Taehyung stood out too much for the villagers' liking. You were strangers, you didn’t look like them, and they targeted you constantly for the pettiest of things. But this area was remote so you endured their hateful ways. It didn’t help matters when Taehyung, a much better singer than the locals before him, was offered an audience with the region’s King. Taehyung never made an appearance, letting other singers he befriended attend in his place, hoping to gain some favor with the locals, but it only angered the King. Feeling insulted, he killed the poets. And now, with enemies at both ends, and anger consuming the villagers, Ares wrath scorched your home to the ground.

You’re quiet next to Taehyung. Your feet ache from walking. No horse, no food in days. It’s nightfall and cold, you wear his cloak and shiver still. You walk beside the poet, but he feels oceans away. His usual bright eyes are dull and full of sorrow. You didn’t realize how accustomed you were to his touch until he had stopped. Your body aches to be in his arms, to hold his hand while you walk. You feel loneliness twist around you instead.

It is Taehyung who breaks the silence. He speaks softly, “There is a famous temple of Athena in this city, hopefully we can convince them to let you stay.”

The idea revolts you, pulling at the pit of your stomach. The thought of going back to your old ways, as if it would be a reprieve or something you missed, makes you nauseated.

“No.”

“I thought it would be enough...I-I was naive. I’m truly cursed. I can sing all about love, paint beautiful stories of love’s triumph, but when I cannot give you anything else but my devotion, it’s not enough. I can’t stand to watch you wither away in front of me. You deserve more.”

“The oracle said-”

“What kind of life is this for you?” He stops walking, his voice breaks in his anguish. “I-I’m sorry. I should have never taken you away from safety into this reckless existence. This should have been my burden alone.” Tears fall down his face as he shudders. You reach for him, cup his face in your hands. How can you make him see he’s all you want? He lets you wipe away his tears. You pull his head down to meet yours.

“What kind of life is this? The best life I’ve ever could have wished for. A life full of love. I’d trade everything I have for you.” You brush your lips against his, it stops his tears. His eyes fill with adoration, a blazing intensity that makes your heartbeat quicken.

“Stop this worrying, let’s go.” You grab his hand and pull him along. The silence hangs heavy in the air, the stillness of the night frightens you.

“Sing me a song please.”

“From now on I’ll only sing for you.” Taehyung says his words quietly, but his resolve thunders to the heavens, shaking the course of your lives.

The light of day shines through your open window, it illuminates the thin white fabric pulled over your head and wakes you. The white cloth flitters in the breeze of your bedroom and you catch a peak of the handsome man lying next to you. His dark warm eyes are already open as he watches you stretch your sleepiness away. He lifts his head, pulling the sheet higher, so he can get a better look at you, “Good morning, my beloved.”

Taehyung’s dark hair and tan skin against the glowing white backdrop of your bed sheets makes him look ethereal. You watch him in awe, “Good morning, dear husband.”

Your body feels heavy and rested. Your bare skin is warm against his and the sun heated sheet, the soft fabric pulls over your bodies, everything is so soft and warm.

Taehyung buries his head in your chest, smiling against your skin. “I love you.”

Your fingers play with the curls of his hair. “And I love you.”

Underneath the covers, you create your own little world, away from the responsibilities of your lives, the expectations of the day.

Taehyung runs his lips across your naked chest, kissing, licking, biting all over your body. You giggle at his playful teasing touches. “You’re perfection, so soft and pretty.” He captures your lips in a kiss, moving his mouth against yours slowly as his body rests between your legs. His hands find your waist and pull at your skin as he explores your mouth with his tongue, swallowing your moans.

Your legs wrap around his torso, you can feel him growing against your slick core. Taehyung's fingers find yours and he intertwines them together, pulling your arms above your head. He nibbles on the sensitive skin below your jaw.

“You smell so good,” he moans, “you taste so good.” His low baritone voice sends shivers down your body. You whimper, breathless from his caresses. He thrusts in slowly, rolling his body into you, slow and steady until you’re both feverish from mounting pleasure. “What do you want, my love?”

“Just you, please, I want all of you.”

He rolls you over so your body is on top of him. “You have me forever. Now show me how much you want me.” Your playful lover bites his lower lip, pulling on your hips to make you move against him. Your body moves up and down his length, Taehyung’s moans and devastating lustful looks spur you on to please him.

You roll your hips faster, so close to release. Taehyung notices your frenzied state and grabs your hips to hold you still, thrusting up into you instead. His hard length fills you up so deliciously. His grip on you is searing yet soft, you focus on his body below you, his tight muscles and golden skin. “I-I’m close.”

“Touch yourself for me.”

The room fills with sinful noises as your bodies converge again and again and you cry out in euphoria. Taehyung stills inside you as you reach your high, mesmerized by the way your body twist in pleasure in his arms.

Taehyung lays your trembling body down against the soft sheets of your bed, grinding his hips into you as you continue to pulse around him. “Eyes open, look at me my love.”

You struggle with his command, but hold his gaze as best you can, his physique shines with sweat and his hungry eyes roam over your spent body, the erotic way he looks at you ignites the desire in between your legs once again.

He’s so close to release. Taehyung quickens his pace, making you tighten around him, senses overloaded. You moan, encouraging him to keep going.

“You’ll let me fill you up? Have my baby?” His long fingers find your sensitive nub, applying pressure and making you cry out.

“Y-yes!” You can only feel blinding pleasure as Taehyung thrusts into you deeper.

“How beautiful you’ll be, glowing and pregnant with my baby growing inside of you.” He groans. Your stomach tightens as his cock swells, pressure filling you before you feel yourself snapping again. Taehyung’s own release following, your tightness too much for him to handle.

You hold him close to you as you both work to steady your breathing, “We have to start baking soon,” you softly remind him, “before the market opens.”

Taehyung cuddles closer to you, “It’s okay, they’ll wait for my bread, it is the best in the city.” He grins, kneading at your breasts with his large hands. You laugh, relaxing into his embrace.

“Okay okay, we’ll stay a bit longer.”

Your children gather around you in prayer. You take in a ragged breath. Your bedridden aging body feels heavy. Soft light begins to cloud the edges of your vision as you listen to the wistful voices of your sons and daughters shower you with love. Taehyung's fingers brush against your wrinkled digits.

“My beautiful wife, how I missed you.”

You call out his name. Your eldest daughter soothes you, brushing her hand over your forehead. You thought you would be afraid once teetering on the edge of your own mortality, but with him here, holding you again, fear is unable to reach you. You’re already so full of love.

Taehyung comes into your focus, still beautiful in his old age, still the gentle man you love, he places a feather light kiss on your temple. Relief washes through you, the currents pull the burdens on your soul away, and you feel light, floating between worlds.

“I’ve waited for you,” Taehyung’s deep voice fills your mind, “Are you ready to travel with me again?” You know your answer, innate as the love you felt when you first met him.

You take one final breath, letting go and following Taehyung again.

---

Your eyes flutter open. You’re lying face down on the hotel bed. As your eyes begin to focus, you are met with the singer’s face next to yours. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads.

“What happened?” you whisper.

“I don’t know, I think we passed out, I woke up right before you opened your eyes.”

He looks at you, still beaming, a boxy smile plastered on his face. You try not to smile back. He shouldn’t be this happy!

“That wasn’t bad. You made it sound bad.” he pouts.

You hum, looking at your still intertwined fingers. You study the smooth skin of your hands, the wrinkles and veins you’d seen now only a fleeting memory. You feel tired.

Taehyung feels like he’s just woken up from a long dream. Memories of last night feel far away, more distant than memories presumably lived centuries ago. He focuses on the only constant, you.

“Do you regret it?”

You let out a deep exhale, you move your hand to trace his cheek, his nose, his eyebrow; he watches you quietly. You flick him on the forehead.

Taehyung yelps, looking quite betrayed by your actions. You smile, and his expression switches easily back to happiness. “It’s okay, you don’t have to admit I’m right,” he teases.

You let out a huff, “Doesn’t it bother you? It should bother you! Why is this happening...it’s exhausting...”

Taehyung wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to his body. “I don’t care why,” he mumbles into your hair. Your breath catches in your throat as he cuddles closer to you.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Your heart pounds. You try to stay calm. “No,” you whisper.

His arms tighten around your frame. His warmth envelopes you, it feels like there’s fire inside you, burning down all your apprehensions.

“So this is how it feels. I thought I understood Jungkook. But this is....” you feel his body vibrate as he laughs to himself. “It’s not something you can put into words, right? I understand what he means, about not wanting to let you go.”

Closing your eyes you can picture yourself being in a different place, a different land, another time, you let yourself relax into Taehyung’s embrace. You can feel his hands caress your body, his long fingers travel to the back of your neck and down your spine and the curve of your back.

“I know I’ve never hugged you, but it feels like I’ve done this a hundred times before. Like you belong with me.” His voice is low in your ears. You try to ignore how you feel, how true his words are, but you can't.

“Right? At least admit that to me, y/n.” He whispers. His fingers dig into your skin as he pulls you even closer.

“Hm?”

“You belong with me.”

“I-” A knock on your door makes you break away from him. Taehyung flops on his back, sighing. You open the door to the youngest and oldest members smiling at you.

“Good morning!” You internally wince at your unusually high voice. Jungkook looks over your shoulder, noticing movement inside your room. He sees Taehyung sitting cross legged on your bed, leaning back on his palms with a grin on his face. Jungkook’s doe eyes go wide as his head turns slowly over to the eldest, who then mirrors his expression. Their surprised faces would be comical to you if you didn’t feel responsible for their reactions.

Everyone’s silence is making your stomach twist into knots. You clear your throat. “I touched his hand, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Unable to meet their eyes, you feel the need to add, “That’s all that happened. So...okay, let’s go!”

---

Everyone is sitting in the penthouse, around the coffee table filled with plates piled high with different breakfast foods. Some are sitting on the floor, some on the couch with plates in their laps. Jin ushers you next to an open spot next to J-Hope and sits on your other side. Taehyung and Jungkook have been quietly talking behind you and find seats in the empty gaps.

“The food here is really good,” Hoseok says in between bites as Jin serves you a plate. He smiles brightly at you. Hoseok wishes he wasn't so apprehensive with you. He aches to get to know you, learn all your quirks, learn about your childhood and what makes you happy so he can shower you with more of it; and what makes you sad so he can make sure you never experience it again. But he's too scared, Hoseok feels too much guilt.

His hair is messy and sticking up in weird angles, you resist the urge to fix it. ‘Just keep your hands to yourself, y/n. He’s not your friend,’ you chant in your head. You look around at the men, cozy and warm in their group. You realize how much of an outsider you are.

“Here,” Jin places a triangle of sweet toast on your already overflowing plate. You eat quietly while the members talk to themselves and check their phones. It feels nice, like a big family dinner on the holidays. You watch Hoseok take a selfie with his phone, a minute later you feel your phone vibrate with a notification.

“You posted to twitter just now?” Hoseok notices the panic in your voice as you magnify the picture to make sure there’s no item or reflection that might incriminate you.

“Err yes, why?” he scoots closer to you to see what you’re doing.

“I just-didn’t think it was that easy.” You scroll quickly through your timeline now that you’ve made sure you’re safe, Jin and Hoseok both moving in your space to stare at your phone much to your dismay and you think it’s time to put it away after the third photo of Namjoon’s toned arms pop up on your feed.

After stuffing yourselves full, the time has come to address the elephant in the room. The members take turns reliving the moments of last night, and in Taehyung’s case this morning, explaining everything so the group could all remain on the same page.

Namjoon should have been upset, once Taehyung shocked the rest of the group by speaking, but being in the same predicament himself, he was not surprised to learn Taehyung sought you out, he had barely slept toying with the idea himself.

You don’t talk much, just confirm certain details. You noticed how the men glossed over the most tragic parts of your visions, and you don’t care to interject. You learned new things as well...

Jimin finding his way back to your farm, only to find it destroyed and you gone, and unable to live with himself after that. You can’t meet each other's eyes when you tell him your own version of events.

Jin wanted to propose, he had picked out a ring, a bright blue gem like the ocean.

Taehyung had convinced you he stopped singing as a bard because he grew to hate it, but he confessed, to your suspicion, that wasn’t the case at all. He promised you he never once regretted his decision.

Hoseok took the job as a DJ because when you were younger you were obsessed with your local station, swooning over the DJ's voice and always calling in to win contests for you and Hoseok. He always had an affinity for music, but mostly he did it for you, to impress you.

Yoongi almost didn’t admit he had never really left your side, how he never stopped protecting you. That had shocked you the most. Your heart screams to comfort him, to comfort all of them.

Jungkook excitedly tells you everything he had planned for your escape, he used his life’s savings to find you and him a new home far away. He tells you how if you both had succeeded you would have been so happy with him.

It felt weird. All these lives inside you itching to burst through, you didn’t feel like yourself anymore. You meet the idol’s eyes sitting next to you, and when he looks at you so tenderly, you wonder who he really sees.

“Yoongi’s life was the coolest.” The quiet rapper keeps his head down, only nodding in acknowledgement at Jimin’s comment.

“Well I liked mine,” Taehyung declares. “Which one was your favorite, y/n?”

“I’m not answering that,” you mutter, growing hot under the sudden attention.

“Hmm I don’t see a connection.” Namjoon hums. “Apart from y/n.”

“Should there be one?”

“I’m assuming nothing strange like this has ever happened to you before?” Namjoon turns to you. You shake your head. “Have you ever had dreams, um, of us?”

“No! I mean-what? No.” You pull the neck of Jungkook’s hoodie over your mouth to hide your embarrassment, with no intention on admitting anything. What does dreaming have to do with this?

Namjoon stays silent in thought. Should he tell the group now?

“I should probably go now.” It’s no longer morning after talking for so long. You have a life to go back to; chores, work. You hope being back in your home will make you feel more like the old you, before everything you thought you knew was turned upside down.

Jungkook stands up, “Why!”

“I have work in the morning? Not everyone is a famous world class musician,” You try to keep your tone light, but you’re bothered.

His lips press into a tight line. “I know, just…”

You have responsibilities, a job to go to tomorrow, you don’t want to entertain the wild fantasies arising in your mind at the way he looks at you so pleadingly to stay. “I can’t stay here all day.” You stand up as well, the members’ eyes dart back and forth between you and Jungkook, like they were watching fighters in a match.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Jungkook blurts out.

You close your eyes and rub at your temples. It’s becoming too hard, to keep pushing these feelings away, you cannot allow yourself to feel things for these men. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What do you want from me?”

Jungkook speaks louder, “Do you not want to be with me?”

“I’m-that’s not-it’s not that simple. You don’t even know me! Do you want to be with me-”

“Yes.”

You let out an incredulous laugh and look around the room, but the men look starkly serious. You focus on the youngest again, raising your voice so everyone can hear you clearly. “I’m a nobody. You don’t know me. Name one thing you know about me other than my name...name my favorite color! If you can name my favorite color I’ll sta-”

Jungkook names your favorite color. His eyes piercing through you. Your breath catches in your throat.

‘How did he-wait...was it her favorite color too?’ Tears well up in your eyes. “...I’m not her.”

Jungkook winces at your words, “You’re right, I don’t know who you are right now. But you are...I know you are...the woman I fell in love with. What are you so afraid of?”

You look down at the ground to your feet. You can only shake your head at him and keep your mouth shut so you don’t start crying in front of them. You feel a hand wrap around yours and you already know who it is. You yank your hand away. If Yoongi is hurt, he doesn’t show it to you.

“I’m sorry, I know my life is difficult, that I’m a ‘famous musician,’ but isn’t it better than a poor stable worker? Can’t you see how meeting you again, this might be, maybe...fate?”

A pained laugh escapes your throat, letting go of the pressure you built up in your forced silence. “Oh my god. This is not happening.” Yes, maybe you can finally admit what happened was real, but what does that change? It’s not like you can run away with him in this life either, the entire world recognizes him now.

Your hands hold your head, your nails dig into your skin to concentrate on anything other than Jungkook’s continuing pleas. It’s just laughable to think this idol is begging you to stay with him. A sick thought invades your mind that maybe you’re doomed to repeat your transgressions. The memory of his bleeding body flashes in your mind, you’re not meant to be with them, how could you be? They’re the most famous singers in the world, yeah, you are afraid.

Jimin tries to calm down the youngest, “Kookie, you can’t force her to stay here…”

Jungkook is beside himself. He feels you slipping through his fingers again, away from him and even if it’s different now, it feels too sickeningly similar.

“Hyung please, you’ve been with non-idols, please talk to her...please!” Jungkook is crying, begging Jin.

A strangled sob escapes your throat at his cries. Hoseok rushes over to you, but you scramble away from his touch. You know you’ll break the second you let him comfort you.

Jin’s heart is breaking; for Jungkook, for you, for himself. He doesn’t know what to say, he’s just afraid as Jungkook of letting you go. Finally Namjoon decides to take control of the situation, the only one with a clear head. “Everyone leave. Now. Y/n deserves her space, and we still have four more days left in this city. Alright go!” The boys pull each other away, holding onto each other for strength, trusting their leader.

Yoongi pats a crying Jungkook on the back, “It’s okay, Joon will convince her.”

---

Your eyes hurt from crying, puffy and dark. You feel pathetic. Your head is pounding, you lean against the car window as you watch the blur of the city go past.

“Here.” Namjoon sits across from you, leaving the middle seat open. He hands you a cell phone.

You hold the sleek new model in your hand, “What is this?”

“It’s a hand phone,” the idol says teasingly.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh. “What is this for?”

“For you, to contact us.” Namjoon shrugs, “If you want to.” You sit in silence as his driver takes you home.

“You haven’t asked to touch my hand. Do you not want to?” You ask, sneaking a glance at the rapper.

“Of course I want to,” he speaks softly. “It’s all I’ve thought about since I saw you. But you’ve gone through a lot. I’ll let you decide if it’s something you want to do, and when you’re ready I’ll be here.”

You bite your lip. “For four more days.”

Namjoon smiles, his dimples on display. “Yes, I’m guessing you didn’t get tickets for the next city?”

“No, I wish. Those fanmeet tickets weren’t exactly cheap.”

Namjoon chuckles softly, “Ahh sorry.”

“Well, I did get a free breakfast with BTS, lucky me,” you hum. He nods, his eyes cast down. You hope he didn’t catch any bitterness in your tone, under any circumstance you would be dying of happiness.

You let the silence envelope you again, as you start to recognize the streets, you’re getting closer to home and to being left alone. You sigh, running your hands over your face, “Oh god, this is a mess.”

“I don’t think it is. I think there’s a reason for everything. And I think there’s a reason why this happened to you. To all of us.”

“What could that reason be?” You ask him genuinely, maybe the genius idol sees something you don’t.

“I don’t know. I do know it’s lonely being an idol. It’s hard to love, to find someone to love you and not break under the constant pressure.”

“I don’t know if I can be that person.”

“Well to me, it sounds like you’ve already been that person.” You want to scoff, but the sincere look in his eyes makes you stop. The GPS signals your arrival home.

The air is heavy as you gather up the strength to leave, “I will message you later, I promise. Just give me some time.”

You watch the expensive van leave your entrance. You couldn’t see through the dark tinted windows, but you had a feeling the idol was watching you, so you held yourself together and waved goodbye.

---

You know you should have just gone inside your home, but you had something to do first, it was driving you mad not knowing. So now you stand in front of a door that’s not your own still in clothes that are not your own. You send a text of your arrival and knock.

“Hi!” You pretend you aren’t exhausted, “I just have to try something-”

He looks at you dumbfounded as you grab his hand and start shaking it. Nothing. ‘Of course, just wonderful.’ You switch to two hands, shaking more forcefully.

“What’s going on...” his voice is shaky from the intense movements of your greeting. ‘Why is nothing happening, why is it only them, Ugh, why!’

“Earth to y/n...” why why why why.

He grabs your arms to stop your movements “Hey, are you okay? You never responded to my calls, I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” you look into his concerned eyes. It feels like eons ago, whatever budding feelings you had for him. Why.

“Do you want to come in?”

“No, I better go.”

“You came all the way over here and you don’t want to tell me how last night went? You meet BTS and now you’re acting all crazy! You didn’t decide to leave me for one of them, did you?” your friend jokes.

“Ah ha aha…”

He raises his eyebrow at you. “I have work tomorrow...I just wanted to see you.” It’s the truth, you’re not lying. “I’m sorry for not responding last night. I’ll see you later?”

He gives you a kiss goodbye. ‘Oh no.’ It all feels so wrong.

---

The first day, you send Jungkook an apology. He sends you a ton of voice memos and selfies, just happy to talk to you again. You respond with light replies, trying not to dig your hole any deeper.

The second day, that night you break down. You send all the boys a simple “hi”. Yoongi, Jin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Namjoon all respond. They send messages about their day. Jin sends you a picture of his food. Yoongi says he misses you. Against your better judgement you tell him you miss him too. Suspiciously, after your reply Jungkook and Taehyung message that they miss you seconds apart from one another. You tell them you miss them too, when Taehyung says he wants to see you, you’re too scared to respond.

The third day you stay busy with work. Hoseok sends you a picture of the sunset, his first message to you, nothing else. You wait until the night comes and send a picture of the moon from your window, and ‘Goodnight. Sweet dreams.’

The fourth day the pressure becomes too much. You hover over the call button all day but you can’t do it. By dinner time, you get a call from Jungkook. You try to swallow down the tears you’ve cried all day and sound cheerful when you answer.

“I just wanted to call before we get on the plane,” he says.

‘It’s too late. No.’ you think. “I’m sorry, tell Namjoon I’m so sorry. I should have seen him before you all left, I should have...”

“Don’t worry y/n. No one blames you.”

“That doesn’t mean what I did was okay. I wanted to see you all again.”

“You did?” The way his voice becomes more cheerful tugs at your heart. “You can make it up to us by talking more. Can I video chat with you later?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, got to go...Bye Beautiful.” He sounds like he’s in a much better mood, you can hear the teasing lilt to his words.

Weeks go by. You keep your promise. It’s easier communicating through the screen of your phone. You can imagine them to be online friends, people who are not famous. Some conversations stay light, some become deeper. They pry information from your life, learning more and more about you, and you feel yourself getting attached to their morning greetings and late night calls. Meanwhile, with family and friends you try to act like everything is normal, keeping this weird new world hidden, but you’re still constantly haunted by your memories with them. Your past lives play through your mind all day long and replace your dreams. Everything else felt so wrong now, so not you anymore, so gray. You feel like a bad friend, a bad daughter, a cheater.

---

Namjoon wakes up, groaning, his body still heavy from sleep. He quickly changes into a pair of slacks and a button down shirt. He chooses a forest green vest to wear, like the plants in his room. He runs pomade in his hair before heading downstairs to get ready for the morning.

He unlocks the door to his bookstore, before he can turn around the door opens with a loud ding. You walk in and make a beeline to the center table. Namjoon laughs, “Back so soon?”

“Of course, I’m so bored! My crops won’t be harvestable for another couple of months. Any other recommendations? I loved your last one.” You smile brightly at the bookstore owner, he’s always so kind to you and doesn’t make you feel like an outsider when you visit. If you could, you would spend all day in his store, talking about the latest novels and picking each other's brains. “Before I forget! For you...” You hand him two jars of homemade jam.

You're his favorite customer. And if Namjoon is being honest, he has a crush on you. He pulls a book from high above a shelf, a pristine copy. “This one, it should keep you busy.” Your eyes sparkle as you take in the large leather bound novel, gold letters adorning it’s spine. “How much?”

“Don’t worry, this one time I’ll take jam as payment.”

“No, that was a present,” you pout.

“Well, then this is a present for you.”

“Sir, if you don’t let me pay, I will throw a fit! I need you to stay in business.” It’s always like this with him, you’ll be damned if he doesn’t let you show him how much you appreciate him.

Namjoon laughs, “Alright alright. Then promise me you’ll come visit as soon as you finish.”

You nod, holding your new purchase close to your heart. He watches you leave, his eyes lingering on your body. You hold onto his book like a prized trophy. It’s another thing he loves about you, the way you treat things with so much care. His eyes still linger on you as you stand outside his shop. He sees a stranger run into you, you stumble back and almost fall, he rushes to the door to help you but stops in his tracks as the man's face comes into focus. “Jimin?”

Namjoon wakes up startled. He runs his hands through his hair, disturbed at what he saw. He’s covered in sweat, inside the cold room of his bedroom. Every night he’s had dreams of you, but this one was different. Should he go talk to someone about it? Who would believe him? He feels like every day he’s slowly getting closer to losing his mind. Today is going to be a long day full of press junkets. He rubs at his eyes trying to forget what he saw, what he felt.

---

Today you decide to call Namjoon. Usually, you’ll wait until one of the members decides to call you, but you had to talk to him before you lost your nerve. He picks up on the second ring. “Hey, I can’t talk for that long, is everything okay?” you can hear how busy it is in the background.

“No it’s my fault! I’m sorry, I’m an idiot, of course you would be busy. Call me when you’re free.”

“No! I have some time, we can talk.” You hear him shuffling to a quieter location.

Are you going to regret this? You take a deep breath. “I want to see you again. I-I don’t want to forget about what happened and go back to my life like everything is normal when it's not. You were right. I’m sorry...I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” You wait for Namjoon’s response, the silence fills you with anxiety. You would completely understand if he brushes you off now.

“I’ll figure something out. Okay y/n?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“See you.”

That night Namjoon sends you a series of text messages with instructions. Your eyes go wide over the new information. You look around your home, you know you should feel some sadness, but only excitement bubbles inside you. ‘I guess this is it.’ How are you going to explain this to your family and friends, to your boyfriend? A special internship in South Korea, you guess is how you’ll start.

---Three Months Later---

Namjoon splashes cold water on his face, he looks up into his bathroom mirror and blinks at his reflection. Namjoon’s eyes are not his.

Namjoon wakes up yelling. He falls back into bed, catching his breath. He checks the time. You should be on the plane right now. The idol rapper has always appreciated the wealth he’s accumulated over the years, but he feels especially grateful in this moment, now that he has found himself in a position of power large enough to secure you with a translation job within his own company.

---

A man holds a sign with your name on it. You walk towards him, your suitcase ticking on the airport concrete as it rolls on the ground behind you. You spent the last three months preparing for this, studying over language books every night and saying goodbye to family and friends. Your parents didn’t understand your sudden change of career, but you promised them the pay was better and it wouldn’t be forever. Your boyfriend was not so understanding, especially when you wouldn’t give him any details as to why you’re leaving the county. You and him weren’t even that serious to begin with but the breakup was messy.

You followed the driver’s instructions once he dropped you off in front of a very posh looking complex, entering key codes, up the elevator, down the hall, until you stood in front of the correct numbered door. You use the key he gave you to unlock the large door and walk into a massive apartment. Every member is already inside, waiting for you. You feel relief wash over you, you can’t help but smile at the group. They cheer at your arrival, you notice balloons and a makeshift welcome sign. The mood is definitely much more relaxed from the last time you all gathered together.

“Is this your place?” You ask as Jungkook takes your suitcase.

“No, this is your apartment.”

Your eyes go wide, “This is way too big!”

Taehyung jumps up and gives you a hug. The months you talked made you feel much more comfortable around them, but you still weren’t prepared for the rush of emotions that filled you once in his embrace again.

“It’s the smallest unit in this building,” Yoongi lets you know.

“And I’m guessing I can’t go to another building.”

“Our dorm is in this one,” The youngest member explains.

“How…” You take a deep breath, eyeing Jungkook up and down, “...convenient.” You take a seat with them on the ridiculously huge couch, next to Yoongi and Jin.

You sigh, stretching your sore jet lagged muscles. “Need to go to the bathroom?” Yoongi whispers at you teasingly.

You snort, his words taking you out of your worries. “Funny,” you mutter.

The eldest helps you fill out a stack of forms for your employment while the rest set plates of takeout on the living room table. You eat your first meal in Korea together. Sitting together, laughing together, you feel better than you have in months. It’s that feeling you get when you’ve finally completed a puzzle, placing the last piece in its place. You feel complete.

Taehyung’s words pull you from your thoughts.

“So y/n, when are you gonna hold Joon’s hand?”

“Oh, um…”

“You came all the way to Korea for him, right!” Taehyung teases.

“She doesn’t have to...” Namjoon murmurs.

“Oh c’mon! You can’t tell me you haven’t been going crazy waiting!”

“Yeah, I agree with Tae!” Jimin laughs.

“Do it!” Jungkook cheers.

“Do it! Do it! Do it!” The youngest members are chanting at the pair of you. You feel the heat rise in your face. You had planned on it, you wanted to find a way to get Namjoon alone, but now with all the attention on you, you feel apprehensive. You look over to Namjoon who looks equally as embarrassed. ‘I don’t want to do this,’ the thought screams in your head.

It has been months, Namjoon has waited for this moment. Now that he’s being put on the spot, he’s apprehensive. Ever since his bandmates touched you, they have acted differently, it might not be noticeable to anyone around them, but Namjoon noticed. Would he change too? Before he can yell at his bandmates, you stand up and walk over to his seat. “They aren’t going to stop,” You whisper, holding out your hand. He sighs and stands up.

“So?” Jin asks when he notices the lack of reaction from both of you as you grip each other's hands.

“Um, nothing is happening.” You stare at the rapper, but his attention is on the place where your hands meet, brows furrowed in disbelief.

“This doesn’t make sense..” He starts shaking your hand up and down as if that might help, it reminds you of the night he dropped you off, and you know exactly how he feels.

“Maybe it’s because I’m jet lagged or something? We could try again later...” you try to soothe the rapper but you can tell he is growing more and more upset with each passing moment, and your arm feels like it's going to dislodge from your shoulder the more he shakes.

The members have all gone silent.

“Maybe you don’t have a past life together?” Hoseok places his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder to stop his movements. No one expected this.

“No, that’s not-we have to-I know it!” Namjoon tries to stay calm but his voice is full of panic.

“Maybe it had something to do with that time, the planets aligning or something?” Jimin says. Is this your fault? Because you were too scared. What have you done? You’re rethinking everything now, you shouldn’t have come here.

“No.” Namjoon is right, he knows it, “that’s not it...” It doesn’t make sense, he knows there’s a connection between you and him. He lets the confession tumble out of his mouth before he can properly think. “Your name, I knew it! How would I know your name?”

You look at him confused, “What do you mean?”

Namjoon bites his tongue. He lets go of you. He blinks his eyes to get rid of tears threatening to spill. The mood is gone and everyone is silent. You feel horrible. Somehow this is your fault, you know it.

“Joon...” The eldest member calls out to him.

“I-I need some air.” Namjoon breaks away from the group.

“Wait!”

---

OOOOooo you had a whole ass boyfriend and you went and tongued Yoongi, scandalous. Looks like poor Joonie got the spiritual cockblock. Should I explain myself lol or do you like drawing your own conclusions?

Oh! Fun fact, the two sentences were this: Your eyes flutter open, you’re lying face down on the hotel bed. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads. That’s what I had to go on T_T hah. Anyways let me know what you think <3

[aalbedo]

tartaglia x injured!reader

request: Hello! How about scenario where character offers help to injured!gn!reader, who is very mistrustful of and reluctant to accept it? I smh love the dynamic "no I don't want your help or anything to do with you but I don't really have a choice". And yeah, I feel like Tartaglia fits it well though you may choose whoever you feel like T v T

format: two-parter (part two here)

ship: tartaglia x reader

tags: reader is the traveler-ish (a completely separate character from aether and lumine, but still the traveler, does that make sense?)

warnings: blood, mildly graphic depiction of injury, stitches and needles

words: 1951

notes: this request awoke something in me, i feel like i could’ve written an entire 70k words fic on this if i had the energy. im sorry anon but i kinda went off the rails with this one hfjdkhfd i hope you still enjoy it. also yeah the header is mildly fucked up because i don’t have the energy to find a better png ok.

You fell to the ground, placing your hands right in a small puddle of your own blood, while a ruin hunter laid on the ground, defeated. Your legs had given in, as a sharp pain hit you through your entire left thigh. There was a large cut on your pants, through which you could see a long, bloody, wound on your skin left by the mechanical monstrosity. It wasn’t too deep, but damn if it hurt.

You squeezed your eyes closed, and let out a loud groan. Reaching a hand into your bag, you pulled out the antiseptic solution you always brought with you, and found out that the bottle was empty. You rummaged more through the bag, looking for a numbing cream, an analgesic potion, even just a remnant of a bandage, anything that could help. Nothing.

Panic started settling in your chest, you were completely alone, in the middle of Lisha, where Hilichurls could attack you at any moment, and you were injured just enough that you wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone run away or even fight. You laid down with your back to the ground and covered your face with your hands, as your palms suffocated another loud groan.

You would have to crawl all the way back to the city, or until you found someone willing to help you before fainting from the slow, but consistent, loss of blood. Or worse, dying from shock.

Suddenly, you heard a voice in the distance yell “hey!” Then a second time, with a clearly worried tone in their voice. The pain in your leg made it almost impossible for you to focus on recognizing who that voice belonged to, but it didn’t matter - you were about to finally get some help. You kept your eyes closed as you raised a hand and waved it, showing whoever your savior was where you were.

As you didn’t move from the ground, you heard steps, quickly getting closer to you, until you could feel the presence of someone right above you.

“Oh thank the Archons, I’m completely out of-” you opened your eyes and were met with two bright blue irises staring into yours, and all of the sudden you recognized the voice from before.

“Did that ruin hunter hit you?” Tartaglia was perched right next to your injured leg, already starting to open a backpack that you didn’t recognize as his. He moved his eyes to your thigh and reached out a hand towards it. You swiftly moved the leg away from him, forgetting that it would make it hurt even more, and whimpered when the pain grew.

“I don’t want help from a Harbinger, least of all you” you spat out as you slowly sat up and used your hands to back away from him.

“Stop moving, or you’ll make it worse,” he said plainly as he stood up and followed you, while you kept backing away ignoring the pain through your leg.

“I’ll lose a leg before I let the fatui help me.”

“Alright then, I guess I’ll just watch you crawl all the way back to the Harbor.” He crossed his arms. Oh, he thought he was being funny?

You kept backing away with your arms, until you felt something hard hit your back. A rather large rock was blocking your way, and you would have to crawl around it, and the young man laughed, slowly walking towards you as he took his gloves off and put them in a pocket. You tried moving sideways, but he was quick to crouch down and grab you by the ankle, the one on the injured side, right when you moved.

You inhaled and closed your eyes as a sharp pain shot through your leg. “Are you out of your mind? That hurt!”

He kept your ankle pinned to the ground. “Don’t move,” he ordered. He used his free hand to carefully move the ripped fabric of your clothes out of the way, and get a better look of your wound. You started to feel lightheaded as you saw him tear the fabric further.

You felt some sort of damp cloth on your skin,figuring it was being used to clean the blood off your injury. Tartaglia was being so careful that you could barely feel it, it seemed like he had done this a million times before. You closed your eyes, placing a hand over them, and tilted your head forward, suddenly feeling overcome with dizziness.

“You’re losing a lot of blood. If you hadn’t moved, it would not be this bad right n-” he interrupted himself and he called your name. “You still with me?”

“Mh- huh-uh” you started feeling uneasy. You opened your eyes slightly and caught a glimpse of the wound and immediately looked away. So much blood.

“Stay awake, don’t close your eyes again.” You heard a ruffling of fabric, the damp cloth wasn’t on your skin anymore. “Tell me about the Archons.”

“What?”

“Tell me all of the Archons’ names and their elements,” he repeated. You couldn’t figure out why he wanted you to tell him, but you followed his order, keeping your eyes away from your wound, and instead fixating on the grass beneath you. You were feeling too dizzy to protest, your only choice was to trust him, despite all of your instincts yelling at you to get away from him.

“Okay, there’s... Barbatos, god of Anemo.” You heard more fabric rustling coming from him, but you refused to look at what he was doing.

“Yes, then?”

The dizziness was still overwhelming, but you managed to keep talking, “Morax, god of Geo.” Clinking of glass, probably bottles. “Tsaritsa, goddess of Cryo.”

“Mh-mh.” He sounded… focused. What was he doing?

“Baal, goddess of- Fuck!” The skin around the wound started burning, and so did the wound itself. You bit your lip hard and groaned as the burning kept going on and on, your skin was itching and for a split second it was almost unbearable. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Antiseptic potion,” he replied plainly. “I had to find a way to distract you or you wouldn’t have let me use it.”

“Bastard.” Your skin kept burning, but you slowly got used to the pain as you watched the clear potion sizzling over your still open wound.

He barked a laugh, “I’m trying to help you over here, you’re very welcome.”

You looked at his hands as he skillfully kept cleaning your wound, now there was way less blood coming out and you were starting to feel slightly more at easy. He lifted his head and looked right into your eyes.

“It’s not too deep, but it would probably be better if I stitched it.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“Of course I have, you think these healed themselves?” he asked, pointing at the seemingly long scar that started from the base of his neck and went down under his shirt. “At some point you have to learn how to stitch them up yourself.”

You exhaled deeply, still keeping your eyes on his. You realized that his irises resembled the starconches you had seen laid in the sand of Yaoguang Shoal’s beaches.

“Do you have an anaesthetic something to make the stitching hurt less, at least?”

He looked into the bag, moving things around, as if he had no idea what was actually inside the backpack. So it definitely wasn’t his.

He shook his head, pursing his lips slightly. “No, sorry.”

“It’s…” you pondered over it. You would probably have to go all the way to Bubu pharmacy to get an anaesthetic, and on the way there you might lose even more blood. “It’s okay.”

From his backpack, that you hadn’t realized was laid on the ground by your feet, he pulled out a small tin box, and from the box he took out an interestingly shaped needle, recurved like a crescent moon, then a pair of tweezers and a thread so thin you could barely see it.

Just by looking at the needle, you felt uneasy again. “Are you sure we can’t go to the Harbour and get help there?”

“We can do that, if that’s what you prefer, but I would have to carry you - I doubt you could walk at all right now.”

Somehow, the embarrassment of other people seeing you being carried, bridal style, by Tartaglia was stronger than any pain you might have to go through to get these stitches done.

“Fuck it, do it. But be quick.”

“I will try my best,” he said, and his tone sounded genuine to you. You still couldn’t believe you were trusting him like this, after everything he had done to you. “Try to think about something else, focus on anything but the stitches, it’ll hurt less.” He passed the thread through the needle’s hole with surprising skill.

“Okay, uh-” you watched him hover the needle over your skin, probably thinking about the fastest and least painful way to do the job. You moved your gaze from the open would to look at his face, and his expression seemed calm enough to put you somewhat at ease.

His lips were slightly parted and you noticed that he was biting his own tongue, the amount of focus he was putting into helping you was so intriguing to you, you could have never had imagined that he would be so… caring. At least not to you.

You suddenly felt the needle prick through your skin and you whimpered slightly. “Sorry,” he quickly said, before using the tweezers to make the needle pass through your skin and grab it again on the other end.

He repeated the process a few times, slowly pulling the thread every now and then to make the stitch tighter. You observed him the entire time, his eyes quickly darting from one spot to the other, his nose and mouth breathing at a steady pace. You saw him scrunch up his nose a few times, probably to release tension.

Each stitch hurt, you could feel the entire needle pass through your skin and come out again every single time, but you didn’t protest at all, and instead focused on counting the freckles on Tartaglia’s nose bridge, watching the muscles under his skin move every time he swallowed, and carding your fingers through the grass, accidentally ripping some every now and then.

“Done,” you heard him say in an unexpectedly cheerful tone. “I have some bandages, but I don’t think they’re enough for this large of a cut. Though, now that it’s stitched up, it’s probably safe for you to move, and I can help you get to the Harbor where you can buy some numbing potion and bandages.”

You looked down at the wound, and to your relief the stitches looked like they would hold together pretty well. “Sure, I think I can hop for a while, if you hold me.”

He picked up both his and your bag, putting them over his shoulder, then reached out a hand towards you and you realized just how bloody his hands were, as well as his clothes. You grabbed it with your own bloody hand and slowly stood up, placing your weight on the healthy leg. He placed your arm around his shoulders and put his own behind your back, holding you up.

“Ready to go?”

“Mh-mh.” You started walking in the direction of the Harbor, hopping on one leg while Tartaglia held you up.

“Whose backpack is that?” you tried asking.

“Honestly? No idea.”

“What were you doing here in Lisha, anyway?”

“Just some Fatui business, don’t worry about it,” he quickly dismissed your question.

“Always so secretive.”

[dent-de-leon]

Some thoughts about Molly choosing the name Kingsley in the context of tiefling virtue names: When he first wakes, Mollymauk only has a scarce few words he clings to. They’re more like titles, really. Names. His list of tarot cards, named after his loved ones for the traits and ideals they each embody--tiefling virtue names. Love, Magician, Tinkerer, Sea, Joy, Rumor. It makes sense if Molly decided to assign himself a title as well. 

Jester: Okay, I’m going to go sit down next to him. “Hi, Molly. Um, I didn’t ask Yasha how long it took you before to get acclimated to your surroundings, but I thought this might help.” And I’m going to pull out the tarot cards. “Because I noticed you said all the names of these when we were up there.” And I’m going to show him The Tinkerer, and I’m going to show him The Magician card, and Love, and Joy. “All of them. That’s us. And this is you, Molly. Anyway, if you want to, you know, just look at them. Maybe you’ll feel better after a little bit.” 

Molly chooses the name Kingsley upon waking with his last memory as a sense of regalness, royalty. Kingliness. 

Kingsley: “Mollymauk, really? Oof.”

Caleb: “Tealeaf. Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

Kingsley: “Ah. Tealeaf’s nice. I don’t know. The very last feeling I had was a...royal kingliness. Kingsley...Kingsley Tealeaf, I like it...King Tealeaf, long may he reign! There we are.”

It doesn’t sound too terribly different from Jester latching onto her tiefling virtue name because she liked the sound of it and thought it represented her more than her given name. Kingliness and Jester are both inspirational traits the two tieflings strive to emulate. Both choose their names seemingly on a whim, and don’t care for their given names. Furthermore, the name Kingsley echoes Jester’s sentiment that she wants to bring joy to others. To cheer them up and make them laugh. 

Molly’s grand declaration of, “I am your god! Long may I reign,” is cried out mockingly. And when Beau reflects on his brief time as royalty, she emphasizes how he brought joy to everyone he met. How he left every place better than he found it. “He told me this story about tricking a town into thinking he was royalty, being a king, to pull off a scam...he told that fucking story, and I realized: even in his scams, when he was doing something shitty, he was still making people feel good or feel special. The town was being visited by--graced by his presence, by his royal highness.” 

Jester: “Well, I thought [Jester] sounded cool. I thought jesters were people that made people laugh...[my mother] did [name me], but she told me I get to choose my own name.”

Caduceus: “I don’t think tieflings--do tieflings get--there’s a thing, for--”

Caleb: “What did your mother call you, before Jester?”

Jester: “Genevieve...I like Jester, okay? Jester. Jeez.” 

Artagan: “It’s a much better name.” 

Beau: “Can I call you Genny?”

Jester: “No, you can call me Jester.” 

What Taliesin says about Jester’s virtue name is something I really love, “They have a word for people who do that already. They’re called jesters...the trickster who shows the truth. I mean, how did you end up with that name in the first place?” A trickster who shows the truth. Jester is the one to cast Greater Restoration on Molly in hopes of restoring his memory. And while that doesn’t quite pan out the way she hopes, there is something else she does that lights a spark of recognition. She’s the one who draws the connection between Kingsley and his cards, who’s able to show him the undeniable truth--that he’s still their Molly.  

Jester: I pull out the cards again. “Look, look, look, look!” 

Kingsley: I look at the cards. “Is...that supposed to be me?”

Laura: “Obviously.” 

Kingsley: “And these are supposed to be you?”

Beau: “You gave them to us.”

Kingsley: “Suppose that’s possible...”

Beau: “Those titles--”

Kingsley: “I get...feelings from you. All of you. But--”

He admits it’s possible he could have drawn those cards, even when he tries so hard to reject the notion that he and Molly could ever be one and the same. More importantly, he eventually relents and acknowledges the fact that he undeniably has feelings for the Nein. His memories might be gone, but it’s his heart all the same. It’s why he knows that Yasha is Love from the moment he first wakes, why he’s still inexplicably drawn to all of his loved ones. 

All of his lingering affection for the Nein, his love for them--it bleeds through the haze of missing memories. When he dreams of a circus and a sad angel and all the Nein’s adventures, he’s wistful, longing. It’s not just that he dreamed, it’s, “I was having the nicest dream.” He wants to hold onto the Nein, to those precious memories, deep down in his subconscious. He looks back on the dream with fondness. It’s a good dream. The nicest dream.

There’s also something interesting about the implications of Molly seeing himself as a King while his close friend is a Jester. The fact that Jester is the one who adds to his tarot deck, a Moonweaver deck where all the cards are double-sided and there’s an emphasis on duplicitous meaning. Two sides of the same coin. More alike than they may seem.

Molly claimed he was a god and king, even though it was all a charade. And yet, he’s immortalized as such long after he’s gone, honored and revered by the people he loved. “Long may he reign.” A Fool just playing at being King. And yet, does it really matter, when he was beloved like one? The Mighty Nein tell Kingsley he’s a circus performer. He says he feels like he was royalty. Claims to be entirely separate from Mollymauk, yet chooses a virtue name that emblemizes Molly perfectly. Once more masquerading as a king. A trick that shows the truth.

We know Molly does have a tarot card with himself drawn on it, because there are two times in the finale when Jester confirms it. And maybe this is just wishful thinking, but...we never saw what Mollymauk’s card was. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s an ornate illustration of Mollymauk in a crown and ostentatious, elaborately embroidered coat--on a tarot card called The King.