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alotofteez · 11 months

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Sphallolalia | Part 9

Series: ⇢ Pairing: San x fem!Reader ⇢ Genre: flirty af fluff, hints of angst, suggestive, kinda smutty, older reader (noona) ⇢ Synopsis: As your best friend’s maid of honor, you must endure the shameless best man’s flirting until after the wedding. It’s just sphallolalia… right?

Part 9: (Un)Expectations - Moodboard ⇢ Genre: fluff, angst, & suggestive ⇢ Warnings: Language, adult themes ⇢ Word Count: 6,639

Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

taglist: @joongiebug (url doesn’t exist), @simluvbot , @kimtae-bae (can’t be tagged?), @justsayk , @sunsethw4 , @baguette-atiny , @youre-a-wallflower-charlie , @knisterlicht, @nevieatiny, @laylasbunbunny, @brown88, @rihannon14

Your finger moves quickly across the tablet screen and repeatedly stops as you figure out the best shelving layout with the store’s data from last month. You are lost in thought behind the registers occupied by sales associates. Their chatting is mostly blocked out, but their sudden giddiness and posture change slightly grab your attention.

“He’s so cute— Fuck, he’s walking over here,” one of them whispers in a panic.

“Language,” you warn before looking up to see who they are freaking out about.

The unfortunate sight of San strolling through your store welcomes you. He already has a smile on his face, and it only gets smugger the moment you lock eyes.

“What are you doing here?” You sigh defeatedly, putting the tablet down and stepping around the counter.

“Is that how you greet all your customers?” He asks, “I think I need to speak to the manager.”

“I am the manager,” you deadpan, leading him away from the prying ears of your employees, “Why are you here?”

“I happened to be around, so I decided to drop by to see if you’re a hardass at work as well,” he jokes, “I got you coffee. Happy birthday.” He smiles, holding out the cup.

You’re caught off guard by the sweet gesture and hesitantly take it.

“Oh- Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

You didn’t think he even knew when your birthday was. You’re going to end up with a sweet tooth for this man.

“Yeah, but I wanted to,” he says with his smile turning into a smirk, noticing he has made you sappy, “You know what else you get for your birthday?”

Knowing exactly where this is going, your index finger presses against his lips before he can get out another word.

“Don’t. I’m at work. I don’t need you here talking about birthday sex,” you warn, voice wavering between seriousness and laughing because goddamn, does the devil work hard but Choi San work harder.

His tongue sneakily licks your finger effectively removing it from his mouth, much to your dismay. While groaning and wiping his spit off on his shirt, you briefly notice the scoop neckline of it and how his defined collarbones peek out from underneath. Thoughts of peppered marks on them and being the one to do so cloud your mind as he speaks.

“I was gonna say a kiss,” he starts, mischief sparkling in his eyes, “But now I know where your mind is at.”

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you try to play it off, “Your mind is always in the gutter-”

“If that’s what you want for your birthday, I think I can arrange that.”

“Hell no. Get out before someone hears you.”

He sighs, stepping towards you and making you back up, “If you change your mind about the birthday sex, you know where to find me.”

“San!” You smack his shoulder, making him chuckle.

“Impact play?”

“Get out!”

“I’ll see you tonight,” he says with a wink before turning to leave the store.

“Is he your boyfriend?” One of your cashiers asks excitedly.

“Definitely not.”

“Why not?”

“He likes being single,” you answer and give them warning glares.

“What’s happening tonight?” They tease, wiggling their eyebrows.

“We’re making decorations for our friends’ wedding. Would you busy yourselves? Go tidy up shelves or something.”

They grumble under their breaths.

“I’m your boss, not your bestie,” you remind them.

Behind the counter once again, you take a quick sip of the drink he brought. You’re surprised by the familiar taste. How does he know your favorite coffee drink? Since when did he care about your birthday? Why is he being so nice to you? It’s not that you’re mad about it, but it just seems suspicious.

San occupies your mind, which is unfortunate for your productivity. You can’t get his stupid face out of your head like he now lives there rent-free. The new shelving layout needs to be done so that you can figure out where to move things for a display of upcoming trends. Shipments are coming in next week, and your store is a bit behind schedule.

Although you try to refocus on the tablet, thoughts of birthday sex with San lure you down a raunchy rabbit hole. For a moment, you entertain those ideas. In your little scenario, you invite him over after work, blowing off your plans to go to Mina’s. Already on his way, he responds with “No one has to know.” Upon answering the door, you pull him inside your apartment by his shirt and crash your lips into his. He lets you take control, allowing you to use him as you please. You can almost hear him say with a smirk, “Don’t take it easy on me,” as you push him up against a wall. Mina blows up your phone asking where you are, but San simply puts it on silent. “Just tell her your battery died,” he murmurs against your lips before continuing to kiss you deeply.

What the hell is wrong with you? You’re at work! Due to confirmation bias, it’s all San’s fault. He is like quicksand. The harder you struggle to get out, the more you sink into him. Almost like he has been spying on your thoughts all day, San texted you while you were working.

From: San�� Take a nap because I’m gonna keep you up all night😉 3:17 PM

From: You Omfg shut up 4:53 PM

You didn’t know exactly how you would spend your birthday, but making so many decorations for the wedding was not on your radar. To make it worse, Yujin invited herself to Mina’s apartment after hearing Mingi say something about wedding decorations. The hidden upside of the night is that you will see San, and it will fuel your dumb crush on him.

That same crush clouds your judgement enough to have you reaching for a coral blouse out of your closet as you’re getting ready to head over to Mina’s. When you arrive, only a few members of the wedding party are present. Kyungmi texts that she’s running late. One by one, the rest trickle in… Except for San.

Mina sends the guys into the kitchen to cut out sticker decals on her many cutting boards. Apparently, no one in the friend group owns a cutting mat for crafting. The plan for those decals is to put them on wine glasses Mina bought in bulk, but that is a task for the girls because Mina doesn’t trust them to line the decals up perfectly. The cups are for the wedding guests to reuse during the reception and to keep as gifts.

When you hear one of the guys say San’s name, you glance in their direction. This crafting ‘party’ has been going on for almost an hour, and it’s killing you to know what he’s doing.

“Where’s San?” You ask, trying to hide your interest.

“Yunho isn’t here either,” Mina counters, and you nearly slap yourself across the face. How could you be so careless? Your brain almost short-circuits racing for a rationale.

“Well, I figured the best man would be here,” you stammer out.

“He’s out with his other friends. You’re welcome,” Mina playfully answers.

Those words stab at your heart. He knows it’s your birthday and still changed plans? But why are you upset? He’s not your friend. This shouldn’t personally bother you so much, but it does. He even said he would see you tonight…

“He has other friends?” Sejeong jokes.

It doesn’t completely bring your mood back up, but you chuckle a little.

“He might be making a new one right now.” Mina wiggles her eyebrows.

“You look stupid when you do that,” Yujin grumbles, voice laced with what you assume is jealousy.

“Well, he is out with his party friends, so…” Mina emphasizes, making sure Yujin hears loud and clear, “Wooyoung is basically a copy and paste.”

You like that Mina also rubs salt in Yujin’s wounds, even if it’s for a different reason to keep her from him. But then again, it feels like salt in your wounds too. You can’t stand the idea of him in bed with some girl he barely knows all over him. Even though that’s his business, jealousy can make you think ugly things.

Looking down at your shirt, you feel so fucking stupid.

You pull yourself back together and start lining up the wine glasses on the table. Just after Seonghwa delivers a few dozen decals to you, Kyungmi busts through the front door.

“Guess who just won custody!”

You glance around at the other bridesmaids, who are just as confused as you.

“Huh?” Sejeong finally says something.

“My parents are giving my dog back. They had her while I was in college, and I broke them down enough to get her back. Wanna see pictures of her all cuddled up on my bed?”

Kyungmi doesn’t even wait for an answer. She must have pictures of her dog on deck at all times.

“Aw, what’s her name?” Yoojung coos, looking at a photo.

“Talulah.”

The dog is absolutely adorable, but there is something abnormal about her throughout all the pictures that has you hesitantly asking, “Does her tongue always hang out like that?”

“Yeah, she’s got a medical issue.”

“Wait, how old is she? You said your parents had her while you were in college, but she looks like a puppy.”

“She’s, like, seven, I think.”

Mina gasps as she remembers something and quickly whips out her phone.

“Do y’all want to see some pictures of Mingi from high school?”

“No, but don’t let that stop you,” Yujin deadpans.

“Was he a dork?” Kyungmi kids, putting her own phone away.

Mina pouts as she hands her phone to Yoojung and Sejeong, “Don’t be mean.”

“I mean, I was an anime kid, so…” Kyungmi trails off, lips pursing to make an ugly face, “It’s like the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Really?” Yoojung exclaims.

Kyungmi nods, “Yeah. Then, right before my sixteenth birthday, I was like, ‘What if I was hot?’”

“Yeah, what if,” Mina repeats, receiving a smack to her shoulder from Kyungmi.

Sejeong passes the phone to Kyungmi, and Mina peeks around the screen to swipe to another photo.

“He was on the basketball team?” Kyungmi is surprised, probably because she can’t picture him not being clumsy on the court.

“Yeah, but he was only on it because he was tall.” Mina swipes again.

Sejeong tilts her head next to Kyungmi’s and squints. “Wait, is that San?”

Your interest is suddenly piqued, but you act casually as you lean into Kyungmi to catch a glimpse. His long, dark hair covers half of his eyes, but his dimples give away that it’s him. There’s a boyish charm about him in the photo that makes you want to smile, but you suppress the urge.

From the other room, you hear the refrigerator open and Jongho yelp, “Oh, shit” followed by the other guys gasping.

“Be careful!” Mina warns with an eye roll.

“Can you come here for a second?”

Mina stands while muttering under her breath, “Oh, my fucking god.”

They crowd around the kitchen island as Mina searches through some cabinets. Finally, Seonghwa emerges from the huddle with an adorably pink cake topped with lit candles, icing, and macarons.

“You guys didn’t have to do all this,” you say with glassy eyes as Seonghwa sets the cake on the table in front of you.

“Make a wish,” Mina smiles with the flames twinkling in her eyes.

It has been years since someone has said that to you. The last time was probably when you were a preteen. You can barely remember the things you wished for then. It was probably toys, a cell phone, or makeup.

What should you wish for now? Money; a raise at work; stumble upon a wad of cash; a distant relative you’ve never heard of left their life’s fortune to you? A new job, preferably one that exercises your college degree? Good health and a long life? To fall in love? There is one thing all these ideas have in common. If somehow, this can manifest something, you just wish to be happy.

“Just blow out the candle. It’s not rocket science,” Mina jokes with a chuckle.

Right. It’s not.

“Alright, who wants a slice?” Mina claps her hands together as Seonghwa brings over plates and utensils.

“I just want a small piece,” you inform Mina before she cuts one for you.

She furrows her brows, “No, you’re getting a slice thick with two C’s.”

You don’t want to waste it, so you might as well eat it. As much as you want to regret consuming these treats, they taste so good. The white chocolate rose macarons complement the vanilla cake with chocolate mousse filling well.

“Oh, my god, Seonghwa. Where did you get this cake?” Mina inquires, mouth full of cake with her hand hiding it.

“A little bakery over by my apartment.”

Mina nudges Mingi’s arm, almost causing him to drop his next bite in his lap, “We should check it out for our wedding cake.”

Once most of you are done eating, Sejeong suggests that you open your birthday gifts. You move a chair into the living room for your friends to watch comfortably on the couches.

“Hang on. I gotta go get my present. I hid it in the neighbor’s potted plant,” Kyungmi says in a rush to retrieve it.

Sejeong scrunches her face in confusion. “Why didn’t you just leave it in your car?”

“I wasn’t about to go all the way back down there.”

“There’s an elevator?”

“Yeah, and I wasn’t about to go all the way back down there,” she repeats as if it should be obvious that it would be too much work.

When she returns, you ask, hands hovering above the gifts, “Which one should I start with?”

“Save the big one for last,” Mina dismisses the large box.

“Start with the smallest one,” Yoojung suggests, and Kyungmi gets a large grin on her face.

You pick up the smallest bag and take note of how light it is. When you pull out all of the gift tissue paper, you’re met with something you weren’t quite expecting. A weird little stuffed creature with beady eyes stares back at you. As you take the plushy out, you find an envelope at the bottom of the bag. Your friends whisper among themselves asking what the gift is.

“It’s your adopted wombat!” Kyungmi chirps.

The paper inside the envelope confirms that it is a symbolically adopted wombat, specifically one named Gertrude. There’s even a photo of the wombat that benefits from the “adoption.”

“Why did you get her that?” Yoojung questions.

“She said she didn’t have a pet.”

“That’s cute,” Seonghwa approves.

As your friends discuss Kyungmi’s gift, you open the box from Yoojung. It’s a duffel bag; you remember her drunkenly pointing out at the bachelorette party how grungy the one you have been using is. Despite being put on blast for it, you’re thankful for the new one because truthfully, yours was disgusting.

“Those next,” Sejeong points out the matching gift bags.

Her present is actually three separate bags containing a trio of fake plants. One is labeled as a spider plant, another as a pothos plant, and the last as a rubber plant. They’re cute and require no maintenance aside from dusting every now and again. There are a few places in your apartment that could use some decoration.

To give your friends a hard time, you sigh, “I’m starting to think you guys think I can’t keep anything alive.”

“You know, I’m honestly surprised you’re still here,” Mina jokes as she hands over another gift bag. You toss her an unimpressed glare.

“Because your apartment is always freezing,” Seonghwa chimes before you remove the tissue paper.

The gift bag feels heavy and full but not like it contains a hard, solid object. Inside is a thick, plush throw blanket that makes a grin grow on your face.

“Are the blankets I have not enough?” You challenge as a joke.

“Those shouldn’t even be called blankets. They’re like bed sheets.”

“So you got me a present for yourself when you come over?”

He starts stuttering out arguments now that you’ve put him on the spot.

“Hwa, I’m just teasing. Thank you.”

Mina slides two boxes in front of you; one large yet flat and one small. Tears spring to your eyes when you tear away the gift wrapping from the bigger one. Dozens of photos of you and Mina over the years are collaged in the shape of a heart in a large picture frame. There’s even the picture of you holding her at the hospital after she was born.

“Don’t cry.” Mina shuffles over to wrap you in her arms as you look at all the different pictures.

“Where did you get all these?”

“Me and my mom dug through all her photo albums in the attic.”

“Minnie Beanie, this is so cute,” you say wiping away a stray tear. The use of her childhood nickname makes her grin.

“Don’t forget the little box.”

Inside the box is a silver necklace with a small heart pendant.

When you look up at Mina, she excitedly says, “Let me help you put it on.”

As she does so, Sejeong slides the giant box to you with a bit of struggle. The birthday card is signed off by Mina, Mingi, Yunho, and Seonghwa.

“Oh, my god. This is huge,” you say in awe as you reveal the present’s box packaging. It’s a pretty sizable espresso machine. Mina has always criticized your caffeine addiction, and now here she is enabling it. But you won’t call her out on it. Currently, you can’t wait for the morning to test it out.

“Did you bring anything?” Yoojung quietly asks Jongho.

He clears his throat to announce, “My presence is your present.”

“Did you keep the receipt?” Kyungmi quips.

“You gave a full-grown woman a stuffed animal.”

“At least that has value.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but she cuts him off, “Yunho isn’t even here, and he still got her a present.”

“Children, please,” Sejeong attempts to shut down the argument.

“In his defense, we didn’t tell him we were doing a little party for Y/N,” Mina steps in.

“I would have gotten you a boyfriend if I could,” Kyungmi says to you as Mina and Seonghwa clear up the party mess.

You assure her while moving back to the dining table, “I don’t need or want a man.”

“I mean, they’re kinda fun to have around.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“What’s your type?” Sejeong is the first one to actually ask about what you are into.

You hum as you think for a second, “Mmm, I just want someone who listens and understands. A deep emotional connection would be nice, you know?”

“We all want that, but that kind of man doesn’t exist,” Kyungmi sighs.

“You’re being too picky,” Yujin adds, and you really want to be petty and snap back that not everyone is willing to hook up with anything that has a pulse and a dick. Besides, you really aren’t asking much of a person; it’s like the bare minimum of being a decent human being. There have to be people out there who can do that.

“I mean, look at Mingi. He listens but, like, selectively listens,” Mina jokes as she plops down in the chair next to you, and you force a chuckle.

“I can hear you!” Mingi shouts from the kitchen accompanied by his groomsmen cracking up.

“Pay attention to what you’re doing with that craft knife, babe. I don’t want to take you to the ER again,” Mina yells back and then quietly tells your group, “He dropped the knife and tried to catch it.”

“What if your perfect person is right in front of you and you just haven’t noticed?” Sejeong redirects the conversation, ignoring the other bridesmaids’ horrified expressions and Mingi’s loud complaints from the other room.

“If they are, please point them out because I’m oblivious.”

She hums as if she’s thinking about something and squints her eyes at you. Sucking her teeth, she says, “I don’t know.”

It doesn’t sound convincing, and you don’t miss her cautious yet subtle glance at the boys around the corner. Before anyone can ask about her cryptic reaction, Yoojung decides to throw out an option, an unavailable option.

“What about Mingi’s brother?”

Mina snorts, “He’s married with kids, and even if he wasn’t, there is no way in hell I would let Y/N date him.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing, that’s just fucking weird.”

“We could have been family,” you say, feigning offense with a hand resting on your chest.

Mina pushes at your shoulder, scoffing, “Shut up.”

“He’s not really my type anyway,” you comment, chuckling a bit.

But your lighthearted mood comes to a screeching halt at Mina’s next words.

“What about San?”

You can’t help the panicked look on your face as all of the other girls start laughing. Your heart feels like it’s going to pound right out of your chest. There’s a gooey feeling in your stomach like you could throw up if provoked any further. For a moment, you think your secret crush has been found out.

“Did you see the absolute terror in her eyes?” Mina asks between laughs.

“There’s a special place in hell for people like you,” you warn your best friend.

“I’ll save you a seat,” she says, punctuating with a blown kiss and wink.

“There are still plenty of fish in the sea,” Yoojung says with a reassuring smile.

“The ocean is starting to look more like a koi pond,” you mutter quietly.

For some reason, Yujin instigates, “Are you sure you’re not aiming too high?”

“What do you mean?” Your voice is frail with confusion and surprise.

“Do you even deserve someone like that?”

“Yujin, what the fuck? Why would you say that?” Mina’s voice pitches with anger.

“Somebody has to be the voice of reason.”

“That wasn’t reasonable. That was just rude. You don’t know Y/N that well if you think she doesn’t deserve someone who will treat her right. On top of that, it’s her fucking birthday, you heartless cunt.”

You all sit in stunned silence. Even the guys have frozen in the kitchen. Yujin’s pretentious expression doesn’t waver.

“You know what? Just leave,” Mina says, standing from the table, “You weren’t even supposed to be here. You weren’t invited.”

The entire apartment is silent as Yujin grabs her things and exits through the front door. You have seen them fight many times but not to this extent and in front of so many non-family members. Yujin’s time at this little party is finished with a slam of the door behind her by Mina.

“And you told me to swear less,” Mingi comments as Mina replants herself in the seat next to you.

“That was the nicest I could be. If you want to be next, keep talking.”

Maybe Yujin is right. Maybe you don’t deserve anyone. Maybe that’s evident in you being unlikeable. What is there to like about you? What do you even bring to the table? You’re a stressed mess that’s possibly a little depressed.

You could probably think of some more adjectives that rhyme, but the guys suddenly distract your mind as they head to the parking lot to see Yunho’s new car. So, you digress.

But before they can make it out of the door, Sejeong stops them with a question.

“Do any of you know someone to set Y/N up with? Someone we would approve of?”

“Seonghwa, who’s that one really good-looking guy you work with?” Jongho elbows the oldest of them.

Mingi and Seonghwa look at Jongho, asking with their eyes for him to stop talking. But he persists in repeating the question. Talking about you and finding a new love interest is now the cursed conversation subject of the night.

“Minhyuk?” Seonghwa says, shutting Jongho down, “He’s seeing someone.”

While Mingi visibly relaxes, Jongho deflates. Seonghwa shoos them out of the apartment, the door closing a lot softer than the last time.

“I’m not supposed to tell you, but Mingi told me the other night Yunho said his ideal type is basically Yoojung,” Mina gossips quietly as if the guys might miraculously hear her.

All eyes flick to Yoojung who is now making an awkward face.

“You don’t like him?” Kyungmi asks.

Yoojung shrugs, “He’s not my type.”

“How?! I’m scared of heights, but I’d still climb that like a tree.”

“You’re not that much shorter than him,” Sejeong notes.

“I’m a big bitch who just wants to feel like a little bitch, okay?”

“He knows how to play guitar,” Mina offers up that information to sweeten the deal.

“Oh, shit. He’s good with his fingers.”

“Kyungmi, honey. Chill,” Sejeong laughs, wrapping her arm around the other bridesmaid to keep her from falling out of the chair in hysterics.

Mina continues, “He also has a dog.”

“Oh, my god. Let me marry him!” Kyungmi bemoans.

Yoojung is sweating bullets at this point, so Mina finally gives in, “I’m just teasing. I don’t want it awkward within the wedding party.”

“Then you shouldn’t have said anything.” Yoojung fans her face with both hands to cool down before the guys return.

The front door suddenly swings open, and Yoojung nearly jumps out of her chair.

Kyungmi leans next to your ear and whispers, “If I get left alone with Yunho, I will devour him.”

“You don’t even look him in the eye when he says ‘hi’ to you.”

“Give me time,” she murmurs as her eyes land on her prey.

You swiftly remind her, “Mina will kill you.”

“Only if it turns out badly…”

“You’re a little late to help,” Mina playfully scolds as Yunho walks over to greet all of you.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he pouts.

“It’s fine. You want a piece of birthday cake?” She offers, already standing to head to the kitchen.

“Sure,” he smiles and looks to you, “Happy birthday.”

You thank him as he makes himself comfortable in the chair next to you.

“Mina was sitting there,” Yoojung mumbles from across the table, clearly shy knowing what she knows now.

“She’s not going to let me eat in the living room.”

As Yoojung opens her mouth, Kyungmi cuts her off.

“Show us a picture of your car.”

Yunho grins, pulls out his phone, and turns the screen around.

“You think you’re in Mad Max or something?”

He confusedly hums.

“Why did you get a car with all those bars, lights, and gigantic wheels? Who are you fighting on the road?”

“Everyone, I guess,” Yunho laughs, “I like to go hiking, and sometimes you have to off-road a bit to get to the best paths.”

His attention goes back to his phone to close out of all his apps, and Kyungmi mouths to Yoojung, “You can have him.”

Yoojung pleads with her eyes for Kyungmi to stop.

“Yunho, get out of my seat,” Mina demands, withholding his cake.

“Where am I supposed to eat then?”

“The living room?” She answers as if it should be obvious and hands off the plate when he stands.

“'Master has given Dobby a sock.’”

“I have no idea what that’s from, but get the fuck out of here.”

He scurries off to join the other guys on the couch.

“God, you’d be a terrifying mom,” Sejeong laughs.

Kyungmi piggybacks off that, “When are you gonna have kids?”

“We don’t know yet,” Mingi answers from the living room.

Mina’s head jerks in his direction before she corrects him, “Not anytime soon. Maybe like a year or two after we get married.”

“Why?”

Her man’s dumb question summons her, and the bridesmaids follow the drama into the next room.

“We are not raising our kids in an apartment. Do you not remember our conversation about saving for a house?”

“We didn’t have that conversation?” His eyes shift around looking for anything to spark his memory.

“I told you to start putting money aside!”

Her angry rant fades into the background as Sejeong turns to you.

“That’s my cue to leave.”

She yells goodbyes over Mina to everyone else before exiting the apartment. The lively conversation in the living room continues, but you don’t bother joining them.

Alone, an all too familiar depression falls over you. You knew Mina didn’t want to raise kids in an apartment, but she never told you that she is making actual plans for it to happen. You can’t even imagine affording a house… or a nice car.

And what pisses you off the most is that San is somehow creeping around in your mind amidst this life crisis. How does that man have you in such a chokehold? Him just looking at you has you thinking about him for days.

You want him to feel how he makes you feel. You want the little things you do to drive him insane and the things you say to linger in his ears. You want to be the only thing living in his mind as he tries to fall asleep at night but can’t because of you. You would be satisfied if he even thought of you out of the blue, unprovoked. Sometimes, he’s the only thing you can think about, and it isn’t fair.

To distract yourself, you decide to be more productive and grab some other decoration crafts out of the cardboard box tucked away in the corner of the dining room. You struggle to open the bag of glass rocks and with one particularly hard tug, rip it almost in half. The rocks skitter across the dining table, some falling off the edges. Sitting down adjacent to you, Seonghwa laughs and starts brushing the rocks on the table into a pile.

You urge him, “Don’t do it like that. You’re going to cut-”

He interrupts with a hiss, quickly retracting his hand from the table. Just as you are about to scold him, he flashes the woundless palm of his hand.

“Just kidding,” he says with a grin and resumes cleaning up.

“I’m getting too old for you to be pulling pranks like that. One day, I’m just gonna drop dead from a heart attack because of you.”

He chuckles at your dramatics, “You’re not that old. I don’t remember you being this clumsy when we worked together.”

“I didn’t have that much on my mind back then.”

“What are you worried about?”

You can’t talk to him about the wedding, your inexplicable loneliness, or the gray hair you found in your hairline this morning. You definitely can’t say anything about San.

“Just things.”

He stares at you, hoping you’ll indulge more, but you don’t and change the subject.

“I remember when you were hired,” you say, reminiscing on those days when he was fresh out of high school, learning how to live on his own, “I was surprised to see you that night Mina introduced me to Mingi.”

“Yeah, suddenly my serious, hardworking colleague was a goofy girl horrible at board games.”

“Hey, I’m not that horrible now.”

“We’ll see about that.”

You softly chuckle but it fades, “You were my favorite sales associate, and you always brought in so many customers.”

He gazes at you, trying to suppress his smile.

“I miss you working at the store.”

“I miss it sometimes, but I went to school so I wouldn’t have to work in retail.”

Involuntarily, your face drops, your reflexes failing to bring up your usual facade.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”

“I know you didn’t mean it like that,” you reassure him and quietly continue, “I went to school for the same reason.”

As he sits there trying to find the words to undo what he has said, you resume working on the decoration. You know he wasn’t thinking in the moment and wasn’t trying to be malicious, but it still hurt. He only confirmed your negative thoughts about your unsuccessful career growth. After a few silent moments, he timidly changes the subject.

“I heard Mark has been texting you.”

“Yeah, he did a while back, but I ignored him.”

“Good… He was a piece of shit to you.”

You hum quietly in agreement.

“Are you seeing anyone?” He asks, his puppy dog eyes meeting yours.

“No, much to Mina’s dismay. I don’t have the time.”

“Same.”

“How’s grad school going?”

“It’s… going.”

“Is it hard since you’re also working?”

“Yeah, I barely have time for myself.”

Maybe you going back would be a bad idea. If Seonghwa, the most diligent student and worker, is struggling, how would you survive?

“But I’m managing,” he adds, “I finished a paper right before coming over here.”

“You must be tired.”

He nods enthusiastically, his focus on the vase in his hand as he carefully drops some glass rocks inside.

“I know you haven’t been able to be involved in the wedding stuff, but you could’ve stayed home and rested. I’m sure Mina and Mingi would understand.”

“I know, but I wouldn’t miss seeing you on your birthday.”

“I would also understand.”

“That wouldn’t stop me.”

His smile as he says that stays in your mind the rest of the night, but something else looms heavily over your thoughts. Choi goddamn San. Even after you return home, that little shit is still pissing you off.

“’I’ll see you tonight,’” you mimic as you enter your bedroom, “Fuck off.”

You pull out a fresh set of flannel pajamas from your dresser and begin your nightly routine. Traces of Seonghwa’s cologne are faint on your shirt. Warm vanilla and spice bring you comfort in knowing how good of a friend he is.

But your mind drifts back to this morning. The image of San ambling through your store with a small, endearing smile is stuck on replay in your head. He was technically the first to tell you ‘happy birthday’ in person, Mina having beat him by texting you at midnight. He even remembers your stupid first kiss story. His playful words ring in your ears. You think about his scoop neck top and how defined his collarbones are.

A part of you wants to give in to him. This could be like a hall pass, couldn’t it? Just a one-time thing. The two of you know damn well you can’t do that, but that doesn’t mean you don’t desire a small taste of what he can give.

A knock on your door this late at night has you confused. Through the peephole, you find San standing there, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. Did you just manifest him?

“What are you doing here?” You ask as you open the door.

“I heard you were asking about me.” He grins before inviting himself in like before.

“Yeah, because we had a lot to do today, and you were out being a fuck boy,” you say with unnecessary spite.

“Fuck boy?” He repeats with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah.” You cross your arms over your chest and watch him make himself at home on your couch. Following suit, you stiffly sit on the opposite end.

“Is that really what you think I was doing?” He asks and receives silence, “A friend I haven’t seen in a while invited me to dinner. I wasn’t going to go, but Mina told me I should.”

You feel a pang of guilt in your chest. You always assume he’s doing something of that nature when he’s not around; it’s an immature tendency of yours.

“You always shame me for the things I’ve done, but I have never judged you for your past actions. I know that I flirt and tease a lot, but I have feelings, too, you know. I didn’t want them and avoided them with one fuck after another,” he pauses, “But that doesn’t work anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

His eyes are fixed on the floor, him seemingly in deep thought. He shakes his head after a few seconds, and you offer up the only piece of advice you can remember off the top of your head.

“Sex never solves anything.”

He slightly nods, “I didn’t think I deserved love.”

“Why not?”

He faintly shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve already done what I did… I guess I’ll just always be known as a fuck boy.”

The look in his eyes completely fills you with guilt.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He stands from your couch.

“It’s whatever… Anyway, I got this for you for your birthday.” He pulls a small box out of his jacket pocket, and you immediately feel sick to your stomach. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

He leaves you alone in your apartment to drown in guilt. You don’t know if you want to cry or throw up. This sinking feeling consumes you quickly. As you open the box, the logo of your store stares back at you on a $5 gift card. Any regret you have for berating him is thrown out the window as you reach for your phone.

From: You I fucking hate you. 10:08 PM

From: San🖕 😘 10:09 PM

From: San🖕 Tell Sammy I said thanks for the help! 10:09 PM

Him mentioning your employee by name absolutely sends you reeling.

From: You Fuck off. 10:10 PM

From: San🖕 I’m joking. Your real present is at your door. 10:11 PM

He brought another one? Opening the front door, you find a large gift bag that is surprisingly very heavy. A part of you thinks he has given you a giant rock just to drive home the fact that he’s an asshole. But what’s actually inside makes you laugh in a good way.

There are several refill bottles of coconut, rose, and dessert food scents for your wall plugins, a few different coconut-scented candles mixed with other scents, one candle with a vague scent name, and a sparkly birthday card. Of course, you have to smell all of them, but first, you reach for the candle that sticks out. The moment the smell reaches your nose, your jaw drops and your cheeks heat up. It smells just like his cologne.

Knowing you’re not going to bed for a bit, you light one of the candles and let the warm, musky scent consume your apartment. It makes you feel like you have a man around the house without actually dealing with one. Although, as nice as it is to live without planning your life depending on someone else’s, it wouldn’t be so bad to no longer be alone.

You watch the flame flicker as you recall San’s vague responses to your questions. What happened to make him believe he didn’t deserve love? Millions of reasons run through your mind, but one keeps coming back up, mostly because you don’t want it to be true: he hurt someone who loved him. You don’t want to become an accidental victim of his. That thought is suppressed as you blow out the candle because your heart is drained from thinking about him.

Unfortunately, those thoughts are replaced by his face as he told you he will always be known as a fuck boy. Why couldn’t you have just kept that to yourself? He’s just so frustrating sometimes. His words and actions contradict each other. He doesn’t really open up while simultaneously prying into your life. You let all of that get the best of you and run your mouth. Yet, somehow, he doesn’t seem too angry with you.

Falling asleep, your brain pretends the lingering aroma is from San laying next to you like the chimerical dream he is.

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kelyon · 1 year

Text

Dark Mistress 26: Affection

Bae loves his little brother

Read on AO3

Somehow, Baelfire was able to get himself, Papa, and Gideon all down the mountain and home safely. Papa was too much of a wreck to hold the baby, so Baelfire charged him with carrying the reed basket and all the sundry supplies they had brought with them the night before. He did as he was told, but had no will to do anything else.

It was hard to look at Papa. Hard to see the shell left behind after the Dark One had died in his arms. Her magic had saved his life and taken away the pain of labor, but there was something inside him that was broken, now that she was gone. He didn’t talk, showed only the slightest interest in Gideon. He looked at the ground as he walked, holding back tears and clutching his staff.

Baelfire had to lead the way. He swaddled Gideon in cloths and tied the bundle to his chest like mothers in the village did. He wasn’t sure of his knots, so he had to keep one hand on the baby the whole way down.

Gideon had slept through the first night of his life. Now that it was day, he was awake, and very unhappy about it. He was such a tiny thing, but his wails rang out through the forest. Baelfire tried to comfort his brother, but those efforts were about as useful as comforting Papa in his grief. He was trying his best, but he wasn’t the person they needed.

The baby was hungry, he needed a mother. Papa was bereft, he needed the woman he loved.

The Dark One.

Belle.

He’d read her name on the dagger she’d used to cut herself open. If Baelfire had wanted to do the will of the Blue Star, he would have used that dagger to kill her. Instead, she had sacrificed herself to bring Gideon into this world, and to save Papa’s life.

Those two both owed their lives to her. They needed her to stay alive. And Baelfire was caught in the middle, trying to hold his strange little family together.

****

When they got to the cottage, he changed Gideon’s cloths and set him down in his basket on the table. Throughout all of this, the baby never stopped crying. Baelfire had the thought to put the basket in the barn, just to keep the noise away for a few minutes.

“No, no,” he sighed. He nudged the basket to try to make it rock. “No, all your caterwauling would upset the sheep.”

No, the sheep were still outside. He had never put them back in the barn last night. Baelfire groaned. If any of them had wandered off, or if the lambs had been taken by wolves or by the cold, it would be all his fault. Baguette hadn’t barked or run up to greet them when they came home. Maybe she was in the pasture with the herd. Maybe she had kept them safe.

As important as the sheep were, their wellbeing couldn’t take Baelfire away from Gideon. Not yet, not while he was still wailing and Papa was still helpless.

His father had made it as far as his bed by the door. He had collapsed, and now looked like he would never get up again.

“We need to feed the baby,” Baelfire said. “Are the ewes still giving milk?”

Papa nodded. Even that much movement seemed to exhaust him. “Your Dabbey,” he said. “She gave me a bucket yesterday. Gods, was that only yesterday?” He covered his face with his hands. “I’m so sorry, Bae. I’m so useless.”

“Hey,” Baelfire put his hand on his father’s shoulder. “We’re going to get through this. I promised you that I’d take care of the baby, and I will. I just--I need to know what to do.”

Papa took a shuddering breath. His nod was stronger this time. “I put the milk from yesterday in a jug in the creek,” he said. “You’ll need to warm it up, then dip in a clean rag into it. Let it soak in and he’ll learn to suck on that.”

“Thank you.” He squeezed Papa’s shoulder, then stood up and brought the basket over to the bed. Papa’s cries had eased for the moment, but Gideon’s had only gotten worse. “I’ll be right back.”

****

He ran outside to the pasture, calling for Baguette and the sheep. His dog answered with happy barks, which made the sheep start bleating. He got close enough to count all nine of them, then ran back to the creek. The milk was where Papa said it would be. Baelfire grabbed the jug and held it against his chest as he ran back into the cottage. He built up the fire and prepared the milk as Papa had said, testing it on his skin to make sure it never got hot enough to hurt the baby.

By the time all this was done, Gideon had worn himself out from crying. Papa held him close, but all the rocking in the world wouldn’t help a baby who was too hungry to sleep. Baelfire heard the change in the baby’s cries. They were weaker now, not as loud, but sharper. It sounded like he was in pain. Desperate. It was as though his little brother knew he had no chance at life if he stayed this hungry.

He took Gideon and held him in the crook of his arm in front of the hearth. Papa had wrapped him in one of his old blankets. Carefully, Baelfire dipped a corner of a folded rag into one of their clay bowls. The milk soaked into the rag. He brought it up to the baby, making sure not to spill a drop.

At first, Gideon was too occupied with crying to realize that help was coming. Baelfire had to catch him mid-wail and stick the milky rag into his open mouth.

After a moment of frustrated confusion, Gideon’s mouth closed around the folded cloth. Then he began to suck.

A shudder went through Baelfire, a sob and a laugh at the same time.

“Good!” he breathed. “Good job, Gid.”

He waited a minute, then took the rag out of the baby’s mouth and dipped it in the milk again. There was a cry of protest that went away once Gideon tasted milk again. Soon, every time Baelfire took the rag away, Gideon kept his mouth open, expectant. He knew he would be taken care of.

Drop by drop, Baelfire fed his brother. As the feeding went on, Gideon’s blue eyes grew wider, his motions became more lively. Instead of crying, he gurgled and smacked his lips together. He spat up milk a few times, but Baelfire wiped it away with the other end of the rag. He didn’t stop until Gideon turned his head away, letting milk dribble out of his open mouth.

Baelfire took a moment to look at his brother. This tiny, perfect thing that he had just helped keep alive. His eyelids closed, his lips curled up in contentment. Baelfire had never seen anything so beautiful.

“Do you know how to burp him?” Papa had managed to get to the table. He was sitting down, looking at them. He still looked hollowed-out, but at least he was able to talk.

Holding the baby carefully, Baelfire got up from the hearth and sat down next to him. “Can you show me?” he asked. “Do you want to hold him?”

Papa had been so happy last night, in those fleeting moments when he had held Gideon for the first time, before everything had gone wrong. He took the baby now, and brought him up to his shoulder. One of his hands covered the whole of Gideon’s body. He held him by the bottom, and brought his other hand down on his back with a steady rhythm.

“You have to be harder than you’d think,” he said. “Babies cry like the devil if they’re not burped after a feeding.”

Somehow, Baelfire found it in him to smile. “Did I do that?”

Papa nodded. “How do you think I learned?”

Tilting his head back, Baelfire stretched his arms wide. All of his muscles were sore. He groaned.

“He’s so small, he shouldn’t be so heavy.”

It was supposed to be a joke, but Papa didn’t smile. Still patting Gideon on the back, he looked at Baelfire sadly.

“It shouldn’t be your burden, son.”

“He’s not a burden, Papa, I didn’t mean--”

“I know,” he said. “I know what you meant. Of all the tasks that have fallen on your shoulders, this is probably the one with the best reward. Or at least, the reward I would choose first.” He turned his head to kiss Gideon on the ear. “But I truly do thank you, Bae. No matter what else happens, you were there for your brother in the most crucial hours of his life. And these past few months, you’ve been here for me. I’ve needed you more than a father should need his son. And you’ve answered the call, every time. Thank you.”

Baelfire pressed his lips together. He didn’t know what to say.

“Well, it’s not over,” he tried. “Gideon is still going to need a lot of looking-after.”

“The time will fly,” Papa said. “Before you know it, he’ll be a man like you.”

He tried to imagine that. What would Gideon look like at fifteen? What would Baelfire look like at thirty? It was so far away. So much could happen between now and then.

“I wonder what he’ll be like.”

“Scholarly, maybe,” Papa said. “If he takes after his mother. She--” His voice broke. He wrapped both arms around Gideon. After a moment, he was able to speak through his tears. “She told me that she loved to read, when she was a girl.”

Baelfire didn’t know how to comfort his father. All he could try was to distract him. “You said you picked out the name Gideon from a book?”

Papa nodded. “Her favorite book. She showed me--well, it doesn’t matter now.” He sighed. “If I knew that story, I could tell Gideon more about who he’s named after. As it is, all I know is that Belle was lonely as a child, and that she loved to read about Gideon and Alma.”

Lonely seemed an odd word to describe the Dark One. It was odd too, to hear Papa talking about her being a girl, being a child. That floating terror he’d seen on the mountain--had she really been a baby once? Like Gideon? Had she been born with blue eyes, blessed by the Blue Star?

“I’m sorry he won’t know her,” Baelfire said. “It’s hard to grow up without a mother.”

His own mother had been hard to live with sometimes, but at least she had been around for a while. There was always the possibility of catching her on a good day--when she would play with him and speak kindly to Papa. Baelfire at least knew what his mother looked like. Gideon would never have that.

“It is,” Papa agreed. “I’ve always wondered about mine, if she--” He shook his head.

“What?” Baelfire asked. He didn’t know anything about that grandmother.

Papa rocked Gideon as he spoke. He was strangely calm. “When I was growing up, my father always made sure I knew that my mother had not died in childbirth. That she had abandoned me--me specifically, not him, not ‘us.’ He would say if I hadn’t been born, the two of them would still be together and happier than ever.”

“Gods,” Baelfire whispered. “That’s horrible.”

“It is,” he nodded. He held the baby out in front of him, resting him against his forearms. “Gideon is never going to hear that. Belle gave her life for his birth. I wanted him, when it would have been easier not to. You have already done so much to take care of him. If we can give your brother nothing else, we can give him our love.”

“Yeah.” Reaching out, Baelfire put his finger inside Gideon’s tiny hand. His brother grabbed him, and didn’t let go. “We can give him that.”

****

It wasn’t until Gideon was asleep in his basket that they were able to think about anything else. Papa put more logs on the fire and reached up into the rafters with both hands to bring down some smoked sausage links.

Baelfire stared at him.

Papa returned his stare with a questioning look. “I thought after everything we’ve been through, a bit of meat would do us good. Is that a problem?”

He kept staring. First at Papa, standing in the middle of the room. And then at Papa’s staff, where he had dropped it on the floor by his bed.

He hadn’t used it since they’d come home.

“Oh!” Papa said when he realized what he was doing. He staggered back, nearly fell to sit on the hearth. With a dazed expression, he stretched his legs out in front of him. He kicked both feet inside his shoes. They both moved with the same ease. There was no pain in Papa’s face.

Mouth agape, he brought his bad foot up to take off his shoes and stockings. Baelfire had seen the injury only a few times, but he knew what it looked like. A limb so twisted and scarred that it barely looked like a foot at all.

It looked like a foot now. Papa could move it back and forth. He wiggled his toes. And there was no pain. Even the scars were gone. It was like the wound had never happened.

He looked up at Papa’s face, and saw the same shock and joy that Baelfire felt.

“She did this,” Papa whispered. He got up--quickly, and without any help--to stand in the center of the cottage. “She--Belle. Every time we were together, she would take my pain away. When we were done, she would give it back. She always said the balance had to be maintained, or else there would be a price.” He lowered his head. “She must have paid for this, as well as for Gideon.”

Baelfire got up from the table. “Y-you can walk.” He could never stop saying obvious things when something amazing happened. “And--and you’re not in pain at all?”

“No.” Papa shifted his weight from one foot to the other, again and again until he was practically dancing. He threw both arms around Baelfire. “I’m whole.”

In the joy of the moment, Papa tried to pick him up, but Baelfire was still taller and heavier than his father. Papa just laughed.

“I suppose I can’t do everything.”

“I can’t believe it,” Baelfire said. “She--the Dark One--did this for you? For us?”

Papa put both hands on the back of Baelfire’s head. “I keep telling you, she isn’t evil. Not to us, anyway. She stopped the war for you, son. Now Gideon, and this. She has given me every good thing I’ve ever lacked.”

And it had killed her.

Baelfire didn’t ruin their happiness by saying it out loud, but it was true. All of this, all of their joy, had come at the cost of Belle’s life.

****

It was all too big to think about. Baelfire and Rumpelstiltskin didn’t have the luxury of sitting around marveling at great events, not when there was work to be done around the farm. Baelfire went out to the garden to bring in some carrots and cabbage for Papa to fry up with the sausage. They had to eat, and so would Gideon sooner or later.

“We’ll need to start boiling some water as well,” Papa said. “There’s going to be a lot more laundry until he’s old enough to walk to the privy.”

Baelfire groaned. “Right,” he said. “I’ll go out to the well.”

“No, don’t,” Papa said. “Stay here and chop the vegetables. I can get the water.”

And he did. Papa brought back two buckets, one in each hand. He poured one bucket into the big iron kettle and set it to heat over the fire. He left one bucket on the ground inside, then sauntered back out with the other.

Never in his life had Baelfire seen his father move like that, so fast, so sure. He was like a different person.

After supper, when Gideon began to wake up and fuss, Papa was the one who darted over to him. He took the feeding, leaving Baelfire with nothing to do but wash the dishes and the baby’s rags. It was work, but it wasn’t hard work. For the first time in a long time, Baelfire didn’t feel like it was his job to do everything.

When night fell, he brought the sheep and the chickens into the barn. Then--with nothing else to do--he stood outside with Baguette for a little while, looking up at the stars.

He breathed.

She was up there, as always, like a diamond in the sky. The Blue Star. Should he make a wish? Should he try to call her down to talk? Should he explain everything, that the Dark One was gone and that Gideon was a real baby after all? But the stars saw everything, they would have seen what had happened on the mountain last night. He didn’t need to explain anything. Baelfire turned away. He headed back into the cottage where his family was waiting for him.

Just for now, it felt like all his wishes had come true.

****

“Bae, wake up. There’s a problem.”

Baelfire jerked awake. Papa was standing by his bed, holding Gideon to his shoulder. From the light in the cottage, it was just after dawn. There was an odd smell in the cottage, an odd sound. He couldn’t make out what it was.

“Is he alright?”

“For now he is, I just fed him. But that was the last of the milk and the ewes aren’t giving me anything more.”

He sat up, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

Something bleated.

“Is--” Baelfire rubbed his face. “Is there a sheep in the cottage?”

Papa nodded. “Dabbey. I think it was the cold that dried her up, staying out all night when Gideon was born.”

Still very tired, Baelfire nodded. “So you brought her inside so she’d stay warm by the fire.”

“We might have to keep her here through the winter, though I worry about her spirit.”

“And the smell.” Baelfire loved his sheep, but there was a reason they were kept far away from where he ate. “So that’s all sorted, isn’t it? What’s the problem?”

“The problem is that these things take time, son. I won’t even try to milk her until tomorrow.”

“And Gideon will need to eat before that.” He let out a heavy sigh. “What do you think?”

“I doubt any other shepherds have kept their sheep milking this late into the season, same with cows or goats. No animal is going to help us.”

“So a person,” Bae said. “A human woman, who is nursing a baby.” It all made sense now. “Tabat. We need to take Gideon to Tabat.”

Papa nodded. “I didn’t want anyone to know about him so soon,” he said. “It’s easier to believe a foundling would be a few months old, not two days.”

“And Tabat knows babies.” Baelfire began to put on his clothes. “They’ll be no fooling her about how old he is. Or that he needs a mother.”

At least he could tell her the truth about that. Gideon’s mother was dead.

“Tell them he is your brother,” Papa told him. “He’s my son, and the mother is gone. That’s all anyone needs to know.”

“Wait, am I doing this alone?” Bae asked. “You’re not coming with me?”

Papa gestured down to where he was no longer lame. “I don’t have an explanation for this yet.”

“Yet,” Baelfire snorted. “I’m sure you’ll figure out some story.”

“No one’s seen me in months anyway. Maybe they’ll have forgotten what I used to be.”

“We could just say you spent the whole time on a pilgrimage somewhere and found some magic that healed you.”

Papa grinned. “Maybe. But one step at a time, Bae. Right now the only thing that matters is Gideon.”

“Right.”

Together, they took the straps he had used the day before and bound Gideon’s swaddled form to Baelfire’s chest, front to front. Papa was better with the knots than he was. Everything was more secure now that he was able to help.

“Will you be alright while we’re gone?” Baelfire asked him.

Papa shrugged. “Of course.”

“No, I mean--” How to say it? “--In your heart? You--you know we’ll come back, right?”

Papa took Baelfire’s face in both hands and kissed him on the forehead. Then he kissed Gideon on his tiny, hairless scalp.

“I do,” he said. “I promise, I will be alright.”

“He’ll need a few feedings before tomorrow morning. I’ll ask if we can stay the night.”

“They’re good people,” Papa said. “They won’t turn you away.”

He nodded. There was one more thing he had to ask before he left. “Papa, it’s after the harvest now. You told them you’d talk more about me and Morraine after the wheat harvest.”

“I did,” Papa said. “And you can tell them I’m ready to discuss the matter whenever they like.”

Baelfire’s breath caught in his throat. “Really?”

Papa looked at him, a little sadly, and nodded. “I never wanted to keep you from being happy, Bae. Morraine is a perfect match for you. You two should be together. I just--it all had to wait, until we knew what would happen with the baby.”

Baelfire rubbed his thumb against Gideon’s back. He was sleeping, for now. His little hands were scrunched up in front of his red face. It all made sense to him now. His brother was worth waiting to be with Morraine for. Gideon was worth all the lies and the secrets. Gideon was worth everything.

“We’ll be back tomorrow morning,” he promised.

“I know,” Papa said.

****

Gideon slept through the journey to town. Walking through the forest, Baelfire saw the familiar path with new eyes. Morning sun shone through the trees in beams of golden light. Everywhere around him, he saw something he wanted to tell Gideon about. The trees, the animals, everything he knew, every memory he had of their home, he wanted to share it with his brother.

Of course it would be years before he’d be old enough to understand, but that didn’t keep Baelfire from planning what he was going to say. The world was so beautiful, and there was so much of it, even on this little path. He understood why Papa always talked about knowing things as being so important. If Gideon could just be told everything that Baelfire’d had to learn from experience, then he’d know it all that much sooner. He’d be spared a little heartache, and that was the most important thing in the world.

“I’m gonna tell you everything,” he murmured into the skin of his head. “And you’re gonna have a better life than me, I promise. That’s all Papa ever wanted for me, and it’s all I want for you, Gid.”

He cut through the forest to get to Morraine’s house, instead of taking the main road. It was one thing to tell her and her family about his new brother, quite another to parade him in front of everyone. When he got to their back garden, Morraine was outside with two of her younger sisters. They were gathered around a fire on the ground, with a big iron pot hanging from a hook over it. From the smell, they were boiling down animal fat to make soap. Another child--a boy--was bent over the garden plot, being carefully observed by a baby barely old enough to toddle around without help.

Morraine’s face brightened when she saw him by the gate. Gods, her smile was perfect. Every time he saw that triangle, he wanted to stop the world so he could look at her forever. Maybe when Gideon was his age, he’d have someone to smile for.

“Baelfire!” She abandoned her work and ran up to let him in--but stopped short when she saw Gideon. “Baelfire, what are you doing with a baby?”

“It’s a long story,” he said as he came into the yard. “Is your mother home?”

“Of course. She’s minding the shop while Papa and the boys are threshing the wheat. Why aren’t you with them? Papa said he was looking forward to showing you how it’s done.”

“Right now, I have to take care of this one.”

Baelfire made his way into the house to the back entrance of the butcher shop. Morraine followed after him.

“Why do you have a baby? Where did he come from?”

It was rare in their friendship that Baelfire got a chance to be more clever than Morraine. Grinning, he took the opportunity. “Really? As many brothers and sisters as you have, and you don’t know where babies come from?” He shook his head and tutted.

“Oh shut up!” Morraine giggled. She probably would have shoved him, if he didn’t have Gideon on his chest.

There were no customers in the shop when they got there. Tabat leaned over the wooden counter, counting coins and writing in a ledger book. Near her feet, her newest baby was sitting up in a cradle, joyfully banging a wooden spoon against everything in reach. Tabat looked up when she heard them coming.

“Well, hello,” she said to Baelfire. She tilted her head at Gideon, and put her hands on her hips. “And who’s that?”

“Gideon,” Baelfire said. “He’s my brother. He’s two days old and he’s going to be hungry in a few hours.”

“That is usually the way.” If Tabat was shocked to see Baelfire carrying a baby, it took second place to making sure that the baby was taken care of. “Can I see him?”

With Morraine’s help, Baelfire undid the straps that held the baby to his chest. Gideon began to wake up at this new movement. His arms unfurled inside his swaddle, and his mouth opened. He didn’t cry, but there was a little sound as Baelfire handed him over to Tabat.

“There he is,” she cooed. “There’s a good little hogget.” She looked Gideon over, once he was in her arms. “He doesn’t look hungry yet, but I’ll take care of him when he is. How about you, lad?”

Baelfire shrugged, “I’m fine. I’m not as picky as he is.”

Tabat snorted. Cradling Gideon in one hand, she used the other to put away her tools of business. Then she turned to Baelfire.

“Now tell me again, you say he’s your brother?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Where’s his mother?” Morraine asked.

“Who’s his mother?” Tabat added.

“She’s gone,” Baelfire said. “She died, just after the birth. And--and she was… a lady, that Papa knew. I mean, guess he would have to know her. She didn’t live in the village, though. I didn’t know her until the birth. I think she was from far away.”

Tabat’s eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “A lady?” she said. “Do you mean a lady lady? A lord’s lady?”

“I think so.” Baelfire covered up the half-lie with a shrug. “It was kind of hard to tell in the moment.”

“Rumpelstiltskin?” Tabat said. “With a noblewoman?”

“Your father had a love affair?” Morraine sounded delighted at the idea. “That’s so romantic! I bet she was married and that’s why they couldn’t be together.”

“Papa didn’t tell me a lot about how it happened,” Baelfire said, truthfully. “He probably never would have told me any of it, if it weren’t for the baby.”

“And now she’s dead, you say?” Tabat asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s so sad,” Morraine whispered.

Tabat made a noise, a sort of “Hmpf,” as she walked Gideon up and down the meat counter. Her brows furrowed, and she muttered to herself.

“Rumpelstiltskin?” she said. “Who would have ever thought? But then…” She raised her eyebrows, tilted her head back and forth. “They do say there’s someone for everyone.”

“We’ve been trying to feed the baby with sheep milk.” Baelfire tried to get the conversation back to the important part. “It worked well enough, except they stopped producing this morning.”

“When did he find out?” Tabat spoke like she was still trying to figure something out. “About the baby? Was it in the spring?”

Baelfire swallowed. “I think so,” he said. “Around the time of the shearing, probably.”

“Uh-huh.” Tabat nodded. Her expression turned smug, like she had just untied a tricky knot.

She must have done the arithmetic in her head, that a baby born in the fall would have been first known about in the spring. Even with this altered version of the truth where Gideon’s mother was an ordinary woman, it would follow that Papa knowing that a baby was coming would make him hesitate to arrange Baelfire and Morraine’s match.

“He did say that he wants to talk to you and Yahn again,” Baelfire said. Behind him, he heard Morraine gasp.

“Yes, and I imagine he’ll be more willing to show his face in the village as well, now that his big secret is finally out.” Tabat shook her head. “Oh, that man.” She looked at Gideon, tickled him under the chin. “Oh, that silly father of yours! The things people do when they’re in love!”

****

They spent a day and a night at Morraine’s. Gideon slept and nursed and slept again. Tabat strapped him to her chest inside her bodice, like she had for every one of her own children. Baelfire tried to help with Morraine’s chores, but he couldn’t let himself stay very far away from the baby. When Tabat noticed this, she put him to work taking care of her baby, who was older than Gideon and much more active. She kept him near and taught him as much as she could about minding children.

Morraine spent the whole day looking at Baelfire like he was a prince.

After sunset, Yahn and the older boys came back from the threshing. The whole family ate dinner on one long trestle table outside. When Tabat explained the situation to her husband, he laughed. They promised they would come up to the cottage soon to discuss terms for the betrothal.

He slept on the same pallet as Morraine, with most of her siblings in between them. He wanted to drift off while thinking about sleeping next to her, what it would be like to bury his face in her golden hair. But his thoughts always came back to Gideon. Every sound might be a cry, and he wouldn’t leave his brother to cry.

Despite his worries, he knew Gideon was safe. Tabat had placed him in the cradle next to her bed, right beside her own baby. She knew what she was doing. Gideon would be alright.

In the morning, Tabat asked if he wanted to leave Gideon with her, but he couldn’t do that. Papa was probably worried sick as it was. Baelfire promised Tabat and Morraine he would come back if there were any problems. They gave him as much food as he could carry and sent them on their way.

When they came home, Papa ran up with Baguette to greet them on the road. A night inside the cottage had done Dabbey a world of good. She had already given half a jug of milk. Papa took Gideon, and he looked happier than Baelfire had ever seen him.

Papa had done a lot of work while they were away. He could do more with two good feet. He’d washed every rag and blanket they had, including the one with embroidered stars that had used to belong to Baelfire. He’d brought in all the vegetables from the garden, and began the process of preserving them. He climbed a ladder and gone up onto the roof of the cottage to find weak spots in the thatch, so they could repair them before winter set in.

That night, they ate a feast of fresh pork, baked apples, and bread from the bakery. They talked of the future. How Gideon would grow. What they could do on the farm, now that they were two men working together. Hopeful as their talk was, there was still sorrow in Papa’s eyes. The past would always be fraught with loss. But Baelfire was able to look forward to the future, a world that had no darkness in it.

They were cleaning up dinner, when there was a thud against the door.

“What on earth is that?” Papa looked up. He was washing dishes, while Baelfire fed Gideon.

On instinct, Baelfire began to stand up, but Papa waved him off.

“Hello?” He called to the shut door. “Is someone there?”

There was no answer.

“It’s probably nothing,” Baelfire said.

“Yes, probably,” Papa agreed. But he picked up his staff and went to the door anyway.

Sitting on the hearth, Baelfire didn’t see what happened when his father opened the door. All he heard was another thud, then a gasp. Then Papa shouted:

“Belle!”

#dark mistress #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #baelfire

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thewaybackcloset · 1 year

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What's in my bag... this is a combination of stuff I'm usually lugging around in my TravelPro Tote on trips.

-I usually carry around a canvas tote if I need to pick up some groceries or thrift. This one is the cities tote bag from American Apparel, one of my favorite pieces. You can still find them all over Poshmark, Mercari, Depop, etc since they closed their shops a few years ago.

-A roomy canvas fanny pack I got at Lollapalooza, which holds my wallet, phone, earbuds, and random small shit. I like to go out hands free. Sometimes I'll pack a small baguette bag if I'm feel extra gen z.

-Stainless steel water bottle bae gave me from working EDC, I think. It's skinny enough to fit in the tote.

-My journal: for daily word vomit, morning pages, poetic attempts,

-Calla Henkel's, Other People's Clothes: I just NOW am getting into.. it's been sitting in my car for a few months. It's hard to travel with hardcovers... because weight and balance, and mainly back pain. I found it at Fact or Fiction in Missoula, MT.

-My iPad, for freelance work and watching Netflix, duh.

-my work phone, real phone, chargers, Herschel beanie, pens, and energy gummies.

-sunglasses, just in case I don't fly around the same four PNW states and get the occasional California or Arizona trip.

I mainly just was bored and inspired on this particular trip to Missoula; probably one of my favorite towns I've been paid to fly to.

-Not pictured: a billion snacks

#what’s in my bag #travel #flight attendant

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justalildumpling · 1 year

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Mark isn't wrong at all 😔

Hyuck is finally over the denial stage but then CHENLE??!?!!!

Gave the best advice from haechan's pov not knowing abt sunwoo and yn NOT dating but they are just joking, from readers pov JUST WHYYYYY 😔😭

hyuck since when did u join the science club my guy 😔

And hru bae !!!

im sorry bubs, this friendship group share two brain cells😔 and this is why ✨communication✨ is important

the science club is unfortunately not the answer this time😭

and i’m good!! i had the best baguette this morning like it’s so crispy on the outside and soooooo soft on the inside like *chefs kiss🤌 hbu???

#dumpling answers🐳#dear mr cupid✨#j🦋

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fairyoftbz · 3 years

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rêveur | b. jacob

☕ pairing: (shy) pastry chef! jacob x fem! reader (with barista!kevin) ☕ word count: 4.2k (。_。) (oops i got carried away) ☕ genre: fluff, sort of slow-burn (more like jacob and the reader rejecting their feelings) ☕ tw: maybe some occasional swear words and one (1) mention of the reader’s ex but nothing too crazy. ☕ synopsis: you find yourself always coming back to the café down the street where you absolutely loved the pastries and befriended the barista, but you’ll soon discover the culprit of your sweet tooth. ☕ a/n: gosh it’s long but i couldn’t stop myself writing for him 🥺 i’m just too soft for him. ☕ requested: yes! i hope it’s not too bad!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

No matter how hard you tried, the efforts you put to prevent you from coming back, you always found yourself going at the local café every single week. You didn’t understand if it was the atmosphere or the warmth of the place, but you always found yourself there. The fact that it was located just down the road gave you the excuse of hanging around there more often than you should.

You could be busy, studying for finals or hang out with friends, the café was always hidden in the corner of your mind. As soon as the street works ended, your neighbourhood became the most tranquil place you’ve ever lived in. All your neighbours were friendly and polite, sticking a little note in the lift to warn the other neighbours of a potential party or loud reunion, helping each other at any occasion. Some residents, including you, owned a pet, and you were grateful that none of them was a pain in the butt for the rest of the building. When you told your friends how quiet and different it was from your former apartment, they never believed you.

While some of them would have killed to study or sleep at a place like your current one, you always found yourself going back to this local café. This little, Japanese-like coffee shop became your new obsession over the months, randomly finding it once while you wanted to go to a flower shop at the end of this street. The employees were welcoming and caring, completely catching you off guard as you were used to going to Starbucks, where some baristas and waiters could use a good lecture about politeness and respect. In the small coffee shop, their goal wasn’t to make the most money possible, it was more to please people and make them discover new coffee or pastries flavours. Everything was homemade, and that’s what encouraged you to become their number one fan. The workers, especially one, started recognising you by dint of your regular appearances at the shop, remembering one of your visits.

“Morning Y/N! Caramel macchiato, as usual? Nothing else?” Kevin, the barista, greeted you with a smile, which you returned alongside with a nod.

This barista was a social butterfly, always striking up a conversation with everyone. And he didn’t care, he just kept going, even if the customers were rude or remained quiet. You were admiring because you were among the people that stayed reserved yet polite when he started talking to you, but his ease made you comfortable enough to joke and laugh with him, striking a conversation with him whenever you had the chance, quickly becoming friends over your many visits.

“Yes, please! I need a lot of caffeine today,” you murmured, and he sadly chuckled, understanding your great need for energy. “Rough night?” he asked, and you agreed again, chuckling as you realised how lame it was. “I assisted my dog being in pain while giving birth,” you explained, and the barista’s eyes widened, his mouth falling agape in excitement. “But that’s amazing! How many did she have?” he seized your credit card without even telling you the price of your purchase - in his defence, you were so used to coming here that you knew the price of your order by heart by now - and typed on his screen, closing the cash register in a slam as it randomly opened. “She gave birth to four healthy puppies, they’re so adorable,” you replied, and the man in front of you smiled as brightly as you were.

“Those are great news! Oh, by the way, would you like to have a taste of the discovery of our pastry chef? You should have seen how happy he looked when he finished the batch this morning,” he explained, and you followed him to the window display, indicating with his finger what resembled a mille-feuille. “That looks nice, I’ll have one, then,” you stated as you were to hand him your credit card again, which he hesitantly took before looking at the back office. You asked him if something was wrong, but he shook his head with a smile and gave you a tray with your drink and the pastry. “Have a great day Kevin!” you thanked him while he washed his hands, head turning to you before shooting you a friendly wink. “You too, Y/N! And you can always tell me if you need someone to take one of the puppies, I’ll gladly adopt one. I only have to talk with my girlfriend first,” your eyes turned into crescent moons filled with joy at his words, and you lifted your thumb excitedly. He quickly waved before serving the next customer, his signature undying smile plastered on his face.

Comfortably sitting down at an empty table, you took off your coat and gulped a sip of your drink, your mouth salivating at the sight of the food. Grabbing the fork, you slid it against the pastry and brought it to your mouth, the sugary taste melting against your tongue. You ate more and more until you finished, almost tempted to go back to Kevin and ask him for another one. But you ignored your love of good food and started getting to work, getting a book and your computer out of your bag, touching up your project that you had spent a lot of time working on. It was one of the last things you had to do for university, and you were delighted to get it done to finally move on.

“Is everything okay?” You recognised the voice of your favourite barista, smiling as you watched him clearing your tray. “Yeah, thanks! Actually, can you tell the chef that it was amazing? I loved how incredible it tasted,” you explained, and Kevin smiled brightly, nodding. “I promise I’ll do it. Jacob gets so happy when he receives recognition, I’m sure it’s going to brighten his day,” nodding at you, he took your empty tray back to the counter.

Quickly saving your paper on your computer, you turned your head to the side to stare at the barista, smiling as you noticed him disappearing in the back as he called his friend’s name.

“Jacob!” Kevin spoke as he wiped his wet hands on his apron, his friend slightly flinching as the voice filled the silence he was used to working in. “Are we out of something?” the baker worriedly asked, and Kevin shook his head, a chuckle escaping from his mouth. “No, no, I’m just doing my job, being a messenger,” Jacob slightly frowned and stopped spreading yolk on the biscuits. “One of my friends, Y/N, came and ate the mille-feuille you made this morning. She said that it was excellent, and she wanted me to tell you,” Kevin explained, and the baker blinked a few times, the tip of his ears getting progressively red as he processed his friend’s words. “Thank you, I appreciate it,” the baker replied with a smile, peeking out of the back office to try and get a look at the customers. “Is she still there?” he asked, and Kevin peered closer, shaking his head as your seat was now found empty.

Jacob nodded and went back to work, a bit disappointed to not have been able to see you, hence the pout forming onto his face, but he was touched that someone complimented him on his skills. Of course, it was his job after all, but it always felt nice to receive compliments and validation that what you do is fantastic. Jacob wasn’t the most confident person in the world, so your words only brought him the daily dose of happiness and the credits he deserved.

You came back the next week, the atmosphere of the café had changed into something quite hectic, almost stressing you out when you came here to relax and chill out from your day at uni. Now that your project was done and submitted, you had some hours to kill before meeting up with some friends. Without even noticing, you arrived in the middle of rush hour, people jostling one another to get some pastries or a quick coffee before going back to work. You had to put back into place a businessman that tried to overtake you to place his order, feeling your heart hammering in your chest while doing so. The excuse of being in a rush didn’t persuade you, riposting that you also had to go somewhere so he went back behind you, breathing out of frustration to make you feel guilty, but it didn’t work. You only rolled your eyes and waited, smirking to yourself as the man behind you gave up and left, cussing.

A hand settled the pastries in the window display in a rush, people massing together to decide on their order. Kevin was all over the place but still an angel, a tired yet bright smile adorning his face. Once it was your turn, a man walked behind your friend and recognised the thin hands that placed the pastries in front of you a few minutes earlier. “Jacob? We ran out of chocolate chip cookies, we need a new batch asap, bro. We’re selling them like hot cakes.Y/N, hi, the usual?” Kevin said, and you looked up at the name, the baker stopping in his tracks and nodded, a tired look on his face. Kevin seized the opportunity to grab a chocolate croissant from the tray his friend was holding, wrapping it in a napkin.

Your eyes connected with Jacob’s for a second, his light brown pupils holding something warm and gentle towards you. He wiped the flour off his apron before quickly looking back at you, pushing the strands of hair away from his eyes before replacing his baker cap. He looked in great need of sleep, the bags under his eyes enhancing the empathy you had for him. He was handsome and adorable at the same time, your heart not being able to choose what side to fall for. The baker tiredly nodded at his friend’s request and disappeared, hearing him hastily get back to work.

“Oh uhm, yes, please,” you stammered, and Kevin smirked, humming in agreement, and typed on his screen. You shyly cleared your throat as your friend probably understood your train of thoughts since you weren’t so discrete in observing the baker, but thankfully, he didn’t raise it.

Once the rush hour had calmed down, and the coffee shop quieted down again, just like it was when you came last time, Kevin took his break with Jacob. The manager took over, leaving the two employees time to take a much-needed break and breathe for a while, gathering enough energy to make it to the end of the afternoon.

“It was her that complimented your mille-feuille,” Kevin revealed as he motioned to your table with a nod, where you were happily calling a friend and munching on the pastry the barista had placed on your tray.

Jacob followed his friend’s finger, and an honest, tired smile emerged on his face when he noticed how bright and sunny you looked. You looked so soft and nice to have around, making the baker wonder how it was to have a conversation with you. Eyes turning into crescent moons as you laughed at one of your friend’s joke, you failed to notice the employee looking in your direction, his colleague observing him out of the corner of his eye while sipping his iced americano.

“She’s pretty, right?” Kevin mumbled, but Jacob didn’t hear him. “What did you say?” The pastry chef mindlessly asked, gaze trailing on your figure. “Y/N. She’s pretty, don’t you think?” Jacob’s eyes widened and stared back at his friend, who was giggling. “It’s okay, I’ll keep it a secret,” the barista nudged his tired friend in the ribs, finishing his drink. “You better,” his colleague finished his coffee, throwing the paper cup in a bin before going back to work, leaving a chuckling Kevin behind. “Why do I feel like cupid out of a sudden?” the barista mumbled to himself, a smirk appearing on his face as he stood up and went back inside.

The next week, as you hung around, you felt the same way of tension as soon as you stepped into the café as last time. Jacob was surprisingly serving customers, juggling between the coffees and the pastries baking in the back office. “H-hi!” you greeted Jacob, and he slightly froze at your word, greeting you with a bright smile. You were surprised when he didn’t even ask for your order, getting straight to work and wishing him a nice day as you walked to your usual seat. However, as you took your first sip, you felt your stomach churn and a disgusting taste landing on your throat. Shivers travelled down your spine as you swallowed the bitter liquid you recognised that belonged to the iced americano. A wave of memories invaded your mind as you remembered how terrible it tasted once you took a sip from your ex’s drink, who was addicted to this type of beverage.

Jacob got your order wrong, and you swallowed thickly several times, pondering if it were a good idea to add more stress to the poor baker’s shoulders by pointing at his mistake, but you couldn’t bring yourself to drink this no matter how hard you tried. You stood up and walked to the side of the counter, waiting for the people to get served before you caught the baker’s attention. You started to calmly explain the uncomfortable situation you were in to the barista, his ears became bright red as another customer came and seemed to have your drink in your hand. The customer got extremely mad as he was apparently in a rush, yelling and cursing at the baker.

“You are paid for doing this, how could you make an order wrong? It’s not that difficult!” the man exclaimed, and you noticed Jacob’s eyes darkening. You knew that he wanted to talk back to the customer, but he didn’t plan on getting fired, so he just listened and nodded. “Jacob, don’t worry I can wait, serve him first,” you said before walking back to the table after offering him a smile, noticing him nodding again and take the two drinks that you and the other man laid on the counter.

The baker cleared his throat as he arrived a few minutes later with your correct order and a slice of chocolate cake.

“I’m sorry for giving you the wrong order. I am the only one here because Kevin is on holiday and my manager was supposed to come, but he left me in the lurch. So… I’m a bit stressed out,” Jacob explained quickly, earning a reassuring smile from him. He swallowed thickly but felt a wave of relief crash onto him as you didn’t look mad at all. “It’s okay, Jacob, it’s human to make mistakes. If it were another drink, I wouldn’t have said anything but I really can’t drink strong coffee. Thank you for the pastry, and uhm… good luck for today?” you said as he stood up, his tired eyes shining with thankfulness as he got back behind the counter. You quickly enjoyed your food and left after trying to wave at him timidly, but sadly, he didn’t notice you.

When you visited the café on the other days, he disappeared again in the back office, Kevin taking back the lead. There, with your caramel macchiato in hand, you started daydreaming about the pastry chef, his dreamy hands and beauteous face. You imagined romantic dates and activities you could do together, such as baking you new pastries before offering them at the coffee shop or even spending a day at the park together, a lost yet gentle smile on your face.

Everything about him made you dream. He exuded comfort, fondness, and warmth, his eyes always pearly with delight. Even a blind man would not have missed how amazing and passionate he is when it came to baking. You once overheard a conversation between him and Kevin, talking about a new receipt he found on the internet and how excited he was to try it out. His soft voice never failed to make you smile, his fluffy hair making you wonder how soft it was and how good it’d feel if you carded your fingers through his locks as you hugged him.

It was undeniable and inevitable, you had tried to deny those feelings during the past few weeks, but you couldn’t reject the fact that you had a massive crush on Jacob. Kevin gently teased you about this when his friend appeared, making sure to say his name aloud to catch your attention when you sat at a table, only to watch him quickly find a hiding place. You also wished you would see him more often, feeling quite defeated to see him escape your gaze as soon as he saw you. With the number of times you came to the coffee shop and saw your friend, your crush’s brief appearances weren’t enough to fulfil your little heart’s happiness. You wanted more of him, but, much to your dismay – and secretly Jacob’s – you didn’t know what to do.

“Ah Y/N! I talked with my girlfriend today, and I was wondering if I could adopt one of the puppies? I showed her the pictures you sent me, and she is all over the moon for this one,” Kevin said as he placed your order on the tray, quickly getting his phone out after checking whether some customers were waiting or not. “Yeah, no problem!” you smiled as you recognised the crazy, adventurous one. “I asked the vet, and he told me that they are old enough to be adopted. Is it okay if you come with your girlfriend within the next few days? I can’t wait for you to have one, they are precious!” you exclaimed but calmed instantly, heart hammering in your chest as your lovely baker appeared from the back office, visibly in a bad mood. He didn’t even glance at you, his attitude sent a pang in your heart, but Kevin just shook his head, winking at you. “Can we come tonight to your place? I’m excited to meet my future baby boy!” Kevin made sure that his friend heard, noticing that he was listening carefully yet discreetly, hence his movements coming suddenly to a halt. The barista gave you a knowing smile and kept on chatting with you as if nothing happened.

That night, someone knocked at your door, and you excitedly walked to the main entrance, happily greeting the couple, and welcoming them in, eyes widening as Jacob had tagged along.

“What a great surprise!” you awkwardly mumbled, and he nodded, his smile outshining the sun as you let them all inside. Kevin and his girlfriend were quick to follow the yaps of your dogs to her newborns, leaving you with Jacob, who was quick to grab your wrist gently to make you stay with him. You mindlessly smiled, but deep down, you were sure that Kevin did this on purpose.

“I couldn’t help but hear your conversation with Kevin, and I’ve always loved dogs, and since yours gave birth, I wanted to see them,” he explained, and you smiled, heart hammering in your chest. “Yeah no worries, you are welcome here! Let’s go see them before they steal all the puppies.”

With Jacob on your heels, you went to the spare room that became your dog’s nursery, the couple already cooing at the black puppy as you slowly opened the door.

“Look how proud she is,” his girlfriend said, looking at you with twinkling eyes. Your dog walked up to you, tail wagging as she got all the attention on her and the puppies. Since your dog only allowed you to reach inside the box, you were quick to lift the only black puppy out of the four and placed it in your friend’s arms. “I named him Squishy, I had no inspiration for the names,” you giggled as Kevin pet its belly, the puppy trying to lick his finger.

You brought everyone to the living room, where you offered your guests some drinks and started talking together. Your friend’s girlfriend was adorable, over the moon with the dog, just like Kevin had predicted it. Jacob was more on the reserved side, just like at the café, your dog climbing up the couch to rest her head on his thigh, asking for caresses. You felt a sense of betrayal rushing through your veins as she preferred a perfect stranger over you, retrieving her head every time you tried to pet her. Your dog looked at you almost with a mocking look, as if she wanted to show you that she dared to go up to him, unlike you.

It was getting late, but you were having fun, the couple confirming that they adopted the puppy. You helped packing everything necessary for the puppy and got ready to leave, thanking you for your kindness and hospitality. You were happy but felt a bit sad that someone already adopted one of the puppies. It was hard not to get attached to those cute little creatures, but you were reassured that he’d be treated like a king by living with your friends.

Jacob, on the other hand, was stuck on the couch as your dog prevented him from doing the slightest movement.

“She is quite stubborn,” Jacob shyly giggled as he tried to move his leg, only to have the dog whining and yapping. “Luna, stop! Let Jacob go, now!” you walked up to the couch, and she fled, strolling away from you each time you tried to get closer to her.

After many unsuccessful attempts, you managed to lure her into the nursery, shutting the door shut and she barked, but the apartment was quick to fall in silence.

“Finally,” you said as you went back to the living room, where Jacob was quietly admiring the photos on the wall. He gave you a quick smile and went back to his observations, you standing next to him with a slightly embarrassed smile. “It was nice to come here, but I’ll still reconsider my choices. I don’t want to decide on a whim, I wanna make sure that I’m settled and ready to welcome a puppy.” You nodded at his words, throwing him a reassuring gaze. “I completely understand, Jacob. You can take all the time you need. I’m planning on keeping one anyway, so if you change your mind, you can always come and visit,” you said, and an awkward silence installed around you two, Jacob scratching his neck as he avoided your gaze.

“Y-you know. I enjoy… what you bake, really, and I can’t wait for your next pastries,” you shyly mumbled to the man in front of you, who looked up with red adorning his cheeks. “I’m touched by what you’re telling me, thank you so much,” he said and quickly looked outside before inhaling and turning back to you.

“I’m going to go, but… I was wondering Y/N… y-you know, you’ve been friends with Kevin for a while and come around the café regularly, so I was wondering if we could also hang out, but you know… only the two of us? Maybe without Kevin?” Jacob was finding his words, thickly swallowing as he tried his best to tell you what he wanted. You giggled at the way he said things, imagining Kevin on his own while you were together. “Sure! Sure thing! You probably have a hectic schedule, but we can find something that works for the two of us?” you suggested, and he smiled, taking out his phone from his jeans pocket, holding the device with a nervous grip.

“Can I get your number, then? It’s gonna be easier to communicate rather than you coming around the café all the time. I- It’s not what I mean though, I really like having you around the shop, but you know, it’d be easier for the two of us,” you both shyly giggled as he messed up, the tip of his ears glowing bright red.

You were quick to enter your number in a new contact, confirming it before returning the phone to its owner, who gave you the warmest smile you had ever seen on his face.

“I’ll call you tomorrow then,” Jacob said as you walked him to the door, him thanking you just like your friends did. “Drive safe,” you whispered, and he nodded, giving you a soft smile before getting closer to you and softly pressing his lips on your cheek.

Your eyes widened at the sudden display of affection but smiled, feeling a wave of embarrassment invading your body. You waved at him until the elevator arrived, closing the front door with your heart pounding in your chest, doing a little dance of joy in the corridor as something concrete was starting to form between the two of you.

And the best was still yet to come. ♡

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ska8er · 3 years

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Just a small Widowmaker appreciation post ✨

#I’m very gay for her ok???#she can step all me all she wants #she’s a beautiful purple baguette #Widowmaker is my bae #widowmaker supermacy #Overwatch #Widowmaker #Overwatch Widowmaker

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dagonet · 3 years

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Kaamelott, Livre VI : Arturi inquisitio

#capito mon bae #kaamelott #french side of tumblr #up the baguette #whatthefrance #what the france #série #dans ton cul #Publius Servius Capito #françois levantal #KT L06E04

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susann-noir · 9 months

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Birthday boy 💙

collab with @mogruith

#Arno Dorian #Assassin's Creed Unity #AC: Unity #AC Unity #AC: u #Baguette Bae #I know adult people didn't celebrate their bdays back then #but I'm celebrating it #bc he deserves it #*tosses the edit into the dead fandom*

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wellenvanih · 4 years

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Want some?~

#drawing #art #my art #artists on tumblr #ffxiv art #my bae #ff14 ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #shadowbringers #oc roleplay #hyur #hyur male #gay boy #gay male #baguette #sketch #fan art #fantasy art

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lewisvinga · 9 months

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chocolate almond croissant | jude bellingham x fem! perez! reader

summary; jude bellingham and the granddaughter of florentino pérez, the president of real madrid, soft launch their relationship

fc; nailea devora

note; i haven’t written in forever and i’ve never done a smau on tumblr so here’s my attempt😋😋 my requests are closed btw 😁

masterlist !

liked by bsfuser, judebellingham, and 739,038 others!

ynperez: in france, kinda want a baguette

user1: mother

user2: i wanna be u

bsfuser: u only know the words oui and allez les bleus

ynperez: i know cama ooh too

camavinga: i feel so special

user3: anyone see jude in her likes

user4: he’s trying to get on presi’s good side

user5: our future president

user6: tell papa pérez to send the damn bid

user7: i’m a culer but i love yn

liked by ynperez, camavinga, and 2,038,937 others!

judebellingham: the south of france

user8: we were in the same country we’re meant to be guys

user9: my faves

user10: going feral rn

camavinga: QP QP-skyyy

vinijr: 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄me dejaron

judebellingham: restttt bro😘

ynperez: ur so unserious

judebellingham: thx

user11: isn’t yn in france rn??

user12: who is yn??

user13: she’s florentino pérez’s granddaughter, he’s the president of real madrid 😭

liked by judebellingham, aurelientchm, and 723,938 others!

ynperez: when bae ate the last bite of your chocolate almond croissant

bsfuser: u look so sad

ynperez: nothing to smile about in my life

user14: BAE????

user15: omg she’s not in her single era anymore

user16: 100% believe she’s dating a real madrid player

aurelientchm: how many bites did he take

ynperez: one too many

ynperez: and one too many sips of my matcha latte 💔💔

judebellingham: sounds delicious 😁

ynperez: yeah yeah 😒

user17: can you blame her?? jude and aurelien are on that team i’d want them too if my father was the president of the biggest club!

user18: real

liked by ynperez, vinijr, and 2,985,034 others!

judebellingham: new found love for chocolate almond croissants

user19: it’s illegal to be this fine

user20: damn

user21: call me delusional but didn’t yn pérez talk about her ‘bae’ eating her chocolate almond croissant & they seemed to be in france together

user22: delusional

vinijr: wonder what else you love 😂🤣

judebellingham: hey man, chillll🤫

ynperez: u should try matcha lattes i heard they’re good

judebellingham: i’m a fan of them icl

user23: no way jude isn’t dating yn pérez

user24: tryna get on presi’s good side like presi didn’t speak english for him at his presentation 😭

liked by judebellingham, camavinga, and 940,038 others!

ynperez: bf always taking pics of me mid complaining should i dump

user25: yn so cute😭

user26: THE SECOND PIC LMFAO

user27: dump him u can do better (me)

judebellingham: I CANT HELP IT THAT YOU LOOK CUTE WHILE COMPLAINING??

ynperez: ur so dumb ur lucky ur cute

judebellingham: oopsies

user28: JUDES COMMENT IM SCREAMING

user29: i knew those twitter threads were right

camavinga: it only took so long for jude to explode

vinijr: to be fair u always complain

ynperez: i helped sign him he should be grateful for me!

liked by judebellingham, vinijr, and 1,482,038 others!

ynperez: ruined my soft launch but it’s okay, mi novio is tan lindo y lo quiero 🤍 [my boyfriend is so cute and i love him]

tagged; judebellingham

judebellingham: i said i’m sorry😔

ynperez: it’s ok pumpkin

vinijr: just so you know he giggled

judebellingham: i don’t giggle idk what u mean

judebellingham: i love you🤍

ynperez: i love you 🤍🤍

user30: I KNEW IT

user31: it couple

user32: now we know why jude signed for real madrid

yourbsf: finally u posted him, such cuties 🥹

ynperez: i wanted a cute soft launch but this will do😔😔

user33: she calls him pumpkin that’s so adorable

user34: idk if i want him or her

user35: anyone see vini’s comment 😭

liked by ynperez, camavinga, and 3,028,937 others!

judebellingham: prettiest girl ever, te quiero, mi flor 🌹🤍 [i love you, my flower]

tagged; ynperez

ynperez: AWHH U SPOKE SPANISH TO ME YOU LOVE ME🥹🥹🥹🥹

judebellingham: what can i say, i have vw the best teacher!

ynperez: te quiero muchísimo mi querido [i love you very much, my dear]

judebellingham: te quiero siempre [i love you always]

user36: 50% of me is crying but the other 50% is so excited

user37: him speaking in spanish for her?? that’s so cute stop

camavinga: he asked me 20 times to make sure he was saying it right btw

judebellingham: mate, don’t expose me like this 😕😕😕😕

user38: camavinga 😭

user39: wanna know how presi feels

ynperez: papa pérez is happy that his granddaughter is happy 😁

user40: i’d sign for real madrid too if that means yn perez would be my gf

#football imagines #football scenarios #footballer x reader #football one shot #footballer x y/n #football smau #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine

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alotofteez · 2 years

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Sphallolalia | Part 8

Part 8: Life of the Party - Moodboard ⇢ Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive, & slightly smutty ⇢ Warnings: Language, adult themes, sexual content, mentions of violence (non-descriptive), blood & wound, alcohol consumption ⇢ Word Count: 10,316

Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Life feels stale over the next few days that you don’t see San. Only occasionally does it brighten when he texts you something stupid like a meme or a guess of one of your kinks. But what really lifts your mood is when he randomly checked in on you, asking how you were. It was only once, but it still made your heart flutter.

The two of you never really texted each other before the engagement. You weren’t close in any way, shape, or form. This new territory feels comfortable yet risky. If Mina found out… you don’t even know how she would react, and a part of you doesn’t really want to know. Additionally, you don’t know if San would stop if she did. You enjoy this new side of him. When he’s not hitting on you, he’s funny, kind, and caring, things you never would have described him as.

Most importantly, since your midnight excursion, San and Mingi have made up with San being reinstated as the best man. You don’t bother him about it because Mina has grilled him enough, using it as leverage when she wants him to do something. That is probably why you find Mingi and San waiting with Mina and Yoojung outside this craft store on the morning of the bachelor and bachelorette parties. The corners of San’s lips curve up when he sees you walking to the entrance.

Unfortunately, this is the only time Yoojung can assist in shopping for decoration supplies. Mina wants the wedding party to be more involved in the decisions therefore she sends you, San, and Yoojung to pick out vases for the centerpieces. You don’t know how much San will be of help, but Yoojung has a keen eye for decorating.

When Mina and Yoojung were getting ready to leave for college, Mina basically had Yoojung pick out everything for her dorm room. It did turn out cute and cozy, kind of like an old Tumblr aesthetic that you remember fondly from high school. Then Yoojung ended up getting her degree in interior design, therefore a lot of faith is placed in Yoojung.

“Hang on. I want to look at these real quick,” Yoojung says, stopping for small gold decorative bowls, “These would match some stuff in my living room.”

San distracts himself with the items on the opposite shelves, picking up random vases and bowls.

“Aren’t there mint accents in some of the wedding decorations?” He asks you as he sets a vase back down.

Your eyes stray to the decoration he just held, and you point out, “No, but that’s teal, not mint.”

“It’s definitely mint,” he argues back.

“Mint is lighter than that.”

“No, it’s not.”

“San, the bottom layer of your hair is teal, and it almost matches that vase,” you say, gesturing to his head.

“My hair is blue. That’s mint.”

“Why are you arguing with me over this? This is irrelevant. Mina doesn’t even want ceramic vases.”

As you bicker with him, his arm swings back, accidentally grazing Yoojung’s butt. It makes her jolt and turn around. He sputters out apologies when their eyes meet.

“Buy me dinner first,” she laughs it off.

Hearing her nonchalance, the blush on his cheeks fades, and you watch him switch on his charm. He leans against the shelf in front of her with a small yet cocky grin.

“Where you wanna go?”

Yoojung is momentarily speechless before laughing even harder, “That was too smooth.”

As she takes a few bowls from the shelf, San glances at you with a satisfied smirk that you want to rip off his face.

“It’s teal,” you finish your quarrel and continue down the aisle to the clear glass vases.

Yoojung quietly corroborates what you said to San while they trail behind, and he just sighs defeatedly.

You browse through the many glass vases trying to find the perfect size. After finishing Mina’s bouquet, Mina gave you a rough idea of how big the bridesmaids’ would be. To save a little bit of money, the bridesmaids’ bouquets will be used as centerpieces for the reception tables reserved for the bridesmaids, groomsmen, and family. The rest of the tables will have slightly smaller versions, which means the vases need to accommodate the different sizes while still looking like a matching set.

The air is wordless until Yoojung finds tall, subtly-detailed clear vases in varying sizes that would look nice with sheer, blush ribbon tied around the neck. The bouquets of beige carnations, pale coral quince, chocolate cosmos, and silver brunia berries would stand out beautifully in the vases full of glass shard rocks and small string lights.

“What do you think?” Yoojung glances back at San, who is standing behind you with his arms crossed.

He shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know anything about decorating, so I guess those are good.”

“Cool, I’ll take that as an agreement. Now help us carry these.” She replies and strategically places the five larger vases in San’s arms before the two of you split the nine smaller vases to carry with you taking the extra one, “Be very careful. Mina is on edge today, and I’m not mentally prepared for her to blow up on us.”

The three of you begin cautiously walking toward the flower section where Mina and Mingi should be.

Yoojung decides to strike up a conversation with San on the slow walk, “Do you know a girl named Gahyeon?”

The name seems to ring a bell in his brain as his eyes slightly widen.

“Why?” He counters.

“She’s my friend. I showed her a picture of all of us from the engagement party, and she recognized you.”

He sighs, clearly remembering her, “What’s my Yelp rating?”

“Based on her response from seeing you, it must be pretty high.”

Yoojung walks ahead of you as San peers over at you with a smirk. His ego, at this point, is bigger than this fucking city. Of course, he has hooked up with her, and of course, it was good. You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“I take reservations, and only for you am I free at any time,” he winks.

“Don’t get a big head over it, though. Gahyeon’s easy to entertain,” Yoojung says over her shoulder, and you can’t help but guffaw. Still, that is rather tamed compared to the maniacal laughter you want to let out. Finally, someone else is here to knock him down a few pegs.

But, unluckily for you, your laugh was enough movement for one of the vases to slide lower against your body. Karma is most certainly a bitch.

“San, one is slipping,” you inform him in panic.

“Hang on,” he says cueing you to stop in your tracks, but before he can do anything to help, the vase falls out of your arms and shatters on the linoleum floor. His eyes catch yours tearing up. You are about to be crucified.

Mina is summoned from the aisle Yoojung turned on, voice underlined with annoyance, “What happened?”

“I tried to carry too many,” San falsely admits.

Without another word, Mina scolds him for it, and he just takes it. Yoojung creeps up behind her with the basket full of flowers, ribbons, and fabrics, and her brows furrow noticing which vase was dropped but doesn’t say anything. You place the surviving vases in the basket.

Within moments of the drop, an employee approaches with a broom and dustpan and immediately starts sweeping the glass up. San apologizes to them repeatedly and promises to pay for the vase. When you get a chance alone, you will insist that you pay. You feel bad that it happened because you laughed at his expense.

Once the scene is cleared, Mina guides you across the store to another aisle for the next things to grab, which are tape, glue, and florist wire. San breaks away from the group to retrieve a replacement vase. It doesn’t take long to find the supplies, and that marks the end of the shopping adventure. The other girls and you double-check that you got all the materials you came here for. As Mina counts the flowers, she realizes there aren’t enough in the basket.

“We grabbed all of the cream carnations that were out. Do you think they would have more in the back?”

“That might be all of them. There would have been more out, right?” Yoojung shrugs.

Mina, unsatisfied by Yoojung’s response, whips out her phone and goes to the store’s website. In the midst of the frenzy, San returns with a vase.

“It says online that they have ten in stock, and we have nine. Can you and San go check that aisle again, in case it was misplaced? I’m going to ask an employee to check in the back,” Mina directs to you.

You nod and make sure San follows you to the back of the store again.

“We’ll be over in the ribbons section. I forgot something!” Mina calls after the two of you.

Once out of sight, you glance over at San.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you say softly, and he knows what you’re referring to.

“It’s okay. I’m used to her yelling at me.”

“Why did you take the blame?”

“I didn’t want her to be mad at you.”

You’re momentarily speechless before mumbling, “Thank you.”

The flower aisle is organized chaos. While the mess is contained to the shelves, flowers are misplaced everywhere. For a few seconds, it’s silent, allowing you to focus on the task at hand. Until you hear a couple on the next aisle talking, clearly in their own little world.

“Try it. It’s just strawberry,” the girl says.

“I don’t like smoothies,” the guy resists.

“Just taste it. It’s really good.”

“I’d rather taste it off your lips.”

It goes quiet before you hear the light smacking of spit, and you cringe. They’re in the middle of a store; have some decency. Maybe you’re just jealous you aren’t getting tongued down in a crafts store.

“That could be us, but you playin’.”

“If you so much as think about touching me, I’ll kill you,” you warn.

“You’re not killing me right now.”

The subtleness of his flirtation sends the warmth in your cheeks down to your core. The insane side of you wants to ask how he thinks about touching you. Is it playful? Casual? Intimate? Sexual? It takes several internal shouts to get your mind back on track because he could just be kidding.

You scoff and continue your search. Yet digging deeper into the giant mess of flowery shelves doesn’t distract you from falling into thoughts of San and all the ways you want him to touch you. But at least you’re being productive whilst doing so.

“Why are you just standing there? What the fuck are you doing?” You snap when you notice him leaning against the opposite shelves out of the corner of your eye.

A smirk tugs at his lips before he replies, “Respectfully checking you out.”

“‘Respectfully’ my ass.”

“That’s exactly where I was looking.”

“Help me find the flowers,” you deadpan.

“Do you think of me?” He lowly asks with that stupid smirk still on his face, and you know exactly what he’s hinting at. The absolute cocky way he asks makes you want to throat-punch him. There are far more important things to be pondering right now… even though your mind is also stuck in that same gutter. You’re not about to out yourself for allowing him to live rent-free in your head.

“Why would I?” You fire back.

“I bet you do,” he says sounding so sure of himself and resumes looking through more of the flowers, “Especially when you use that toy of yours. I don’t know how you haven’t jumped my bones yet.”

You can’t tell if this is confidence, arrogance, or just a joke.

“You might find this hard to believe, but some people have self-control.”

“Ah, so you want to.”

Your face feels like it’s on fire. You should really pay attention to how you word things.

“That’s not- I’m seconds away from stomping you out.”

“Step on me, mommy.”

As much as you want to be serious and chastise him for being so far in the gutter, his quick remark makes you crack up.

“Stop being dumb and help me.”

A smile spreads across his face seeing you laugh.

“You’re so serious today. It’s supposed to be a fun day.”

“I just want everything to go right today. I’ve already fucked up. We need to find those flowers,” you caution.

“You do know they restock things, right?”

“I know how retail works. It’s just easier if they have everything right now.”

“Not everything has to go perfectly,” he assures you as he resumes searching shelves a few feet away from you, “I can come back up here another day if I have to.”

“But that’s just inconvenient.”

“That’s life.”

You briefly glance at him diligently digging through the bunches of flowers and leaves. The profound things he has been saying to you have you questioning who he is as a person. Though these things vary from short, vague sentences to slice-of-life stories, he hints that there is an obviously hidden side of himself. Have you been totally wrong about him this whole time? These revelations have been preceded by his insufferable flirting. Does anyone else know about-

“I want you until the last flower dies,” San interrupts your thoughts, creeping a stem into your peripheral vision. When you finally look at the flowers, you gasp,

“Where did you find that?”

As you are caught up in the discovery, he frowns and hands over the artificial carnations without a fight.

“Did you even hear what I said?” He grumbles.

“Yes, and it was a terrible pickup line.”

“Does anything work on you?”

“Nope,” you answer as you head back down the aisle to meet up with everyone else. You don’t want to reveal the direct way to your heart just in case he’s just being an asshole. If he really wants to know, he will figure it out himself. If he finds out and is just being an asshole, at least it will have been a nuisance, and hopefully, he will realize it’s not worth it.

As you near your friends, Mina lights up at what you’re holding.

“Where did you find it?” She asks in surprise.

San’s voice follows behind you, “It was buried in some other flowers at the top of the shelves.”

“Thank god. Now, we can finally leave,” she sighs, pushing the basket to the registers.

The cashier starts ringing up the items, and Mingi watches the total get higher and higher.

“Do we really need the super realistic flowers?” He quietly asks his fiancée.

“Yeah, I don’t want our decorations looking fake and cheap. The other flowers are ugly,” Mina answers as if it should be obvious.

“I wouldn’t mind. These flowers are expensive.”

“It’s fine. My parents are paying for it.”

“I know. That’s why I feel bad.”

“They don’t care. They’ve been waiting to spoil me for my wedding.”

“I still don’t feel comfortable letting them spend this much.”

“Mingi, I promise it’s fine.”

Their argument spans the entirety of the checkout process. Discreetly, you apologize to the cashier as you take the paper sacks to leave. After putting all the crafts away in Mina’s car, everyone disburses to get ready for their respective parties.

A to-do list quickly forms in your head as you drive back to your apartment. You need to shower, do your hair and makeup, pick an outfit for the bachelorette party, put together an overnight bag, and grab anything else you might need for the party. The other day you went to an adult shop to snag a few phallic things for the celebration, such as penis straws, penis suckers, penis plates, penis napkins, a penis crown for the bride-to-be… Why the fuck did you get so many penis-themed things? Is this normal for a bachelorette party? At least you got sperm-shaped confetti to mix it up a bit.

As you shower, you think about what you would want to do for your own bachelorette party. You don’t really have the money to do a vacation-esque party, you’re not into partying or heavy drinking, and you would probably die of embarrassment if Mina showed up with these same party decorations. Maybe that’s just the overly grownup part of you taking over; you have spent so much time acting as a motherly figure to those around you. You find happiness in others having a good time, but maybe you just tell yourself that because that’s the only option you are given.

Once you’re bathed and have your hair and makeup done, you settle on a jumpsuit with a bit of a low neckline that you haven’t worn because there hasn’t been a good enough occasion. It shows off the mature side of you, which is fitting for how you feel about the night. You and Sejeong are basically babysitters for the young, wild ones. A comfy set of clothes is packed along with your other overnight essentials in a tote bag. On your way out, you snatch the paper bag of penis stuff.

Arriving just on time, you are welcomed into Mina’s apartment by the other bridesmaids. The bride-to-be is changing into her white off-the-shoulder bodycon dress. You can feel the excitement when she exits her bedroom with a huge smile as she reveals the garment for the first time. She is showered in compliments. Your eyes sting a bit from tears wanting to spring out. Mina isn’t the same little girl you knew growing up. You have to remind yourself that she is now a young woman doing adult things, no longer your baby sister playing pretend. Your heart just isn’t ready to accept that.

Before heading out the door, you all gather around Mina to take a mirror selfie to commemorate the night.

“To the vineyard!” Mina commands, ushering everyone out of her apartment to lock the door.

“Hey,” Yoojung pulls you aside while Mina is distracted with her keys, “When we get back before we start the movie, me and Kyungmi have a little surprise for Mina.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” she sings.

A million things go through your mind, but you honestly can’t guess what those two are up to. You don’t dwell on it because the conversations in the car don’t allow you to hear yourself even think, and also, whatever they have planned shouldn’t be too terrible. Yoojung and Kyungmi know Mina well enough to surprise her with something she’ll enjoy.

At the vineyard just outside the city where the hilly landscape is flourishing with hundreds of rows of grapevines, you and your friends are sat on the terrace with a beautiful view. The weather is perfect, sunny and not too hot or cold. Sitting back, you watch the girls smile and giggle over the different wines. In mom mode, you casually take a few sips of each wine so as to not get toasty. The knowledge from the sommelier is not going to stick as the girls go off on random tangents stemming from words in his information. You will make sure to leave him a well-deserved tip after dealing with the mess that is Mina’s bridal party.

Along with the group’s favorite wine, a server leaves you a charcuterie board to nibble on after the tasting. The board looks super fancy with manchego, red wine merlot cheese, blueberry white cheddar, prosciutto di parma, pita crisps, rosemary crackers, cranberry walnut bread, raspberry jam, lemon dill mayo, fresh grapes, blueberries, and strawberries. It seems like a lot of food, but splitting it between the six of you, it’s just a snack. Once the server leaves, you start pulling things onto your small plates.

“I think the waiter likes you,” Yoojung teases Kyungmi, “He poured your glass first every time.”

“He looks like he has a small dick,” Kyungmi comments, taking you by surprise with her bold statement. You take a sip of water before you choke on a crisp.

“He has big dick energy, though,” Mina refutes.

“Big dick energy isn’t going to fill my hole.”

Between laughs, Sejeong reminds you all to be quieter so that he and other customers don’t hear. It still baffles you how blunt Kyungmi, the quiet friend, can be. You pour her a glass of water, signaling it’s time to sober up a bit, but it’s only in vain.

“Why are y’all trying to get me a man? Doesn’t Y/N need one?” Kyungmi suddenly deflects.

You argue right back, “Hey, don’t drag me into this. He’s hitting on you, not me.”

“I can just tell him you think he’s cute.”

“I’m too old for him.”

You don’t actually know how old he is, but you would be surprised if he was old enough to drink what he serves.

As the other girls loudly refute your statement, you barely make out Yujin’s “yeah, you kind of are.”

You really don’t want to spiral while you are supposed to be having fun. Those intrusive thoughts about your age and where you are in life have been pushed aside for the day, but Yujin brought them back out ruthlessly. No one else seems to have heard her since no one says anything. You slide down in your chair the slightest bit. San’s words from this morning are remembered; “It’s supposed to be a fun day.”

As much as you want to let it go, his age enters the chat. You’re not ancient compared to him, but you know people would think it’s weird that you like a guy younger than you. You wonder if he just acts like he’s interested in older women to tease you. When you’re with him, age never causes an issue. He makes you feel valid and lifts you up if you’re down. Even if he doesn’t fully mean what he says, you like how he makes you feel.

“Y’all are annoying. I need to pee,” Kyungmi announces to the table before standing up.

“Don’t break the seal,” Yujin advises.

“This dam is about to break!” Kyungmi hurries off to the bathroom with a busting Mina in tow.

The other girls resume talking, and your mind strays to something else. You rarely use Instagram, but you know a certain someone, who followed you shortly after telling him you don’t get on social media anymore, might be lurking around on there. Your finger hovers over selecting the photo your group took before leaving. The jumpsuit you decided on for the night makes you feel kind of sensuous, and documenting it in a photo provides the opportunity to make someone wish he was seeing it in person. You post the picture with just the wine glass emoji and tags of your friends’ usernames.

You watch a few slow notifications come up on your lock screen; a like and comment from Seonghwa that says “so pretty ☺️,” random likes from former classmates, and a comment from a relative you haven’t talked to in a while. None of them are who you’re waiting for. Sejeong sweeps you up in a conversation about the concurrent bachelor party, and your phone falls face down in your lap.

“Where do you think the guys are going?”

“Knowing the best man, a strip club,” Yujin answers.

“Yeah, probably,” Yoojung concurs, “But I feel like Mina wouldn’t let that happen. She even told us, ‘no strippers.’”

“I don’t know how they would have gotten Seonghwa to agree to go. I can picture him sitting there not knowing where to look with his hands awkwardly placed in his lap,” Sejeong says, painting a picture in your mind that makes you laugh. It’s true though; he’s quite the gentleman.

After the return of Kyungmi and Mina, your phone vibrates that tempting text message pattern, and you are quick to check your notifications. Like a gift from the universe, there’s an Instagram like and a text from San.

From: San🖕 You look sexy in that picture 7:28 PM

Your face heats up as he does exactly what you want him to. You haven’t drank that much wine, but you think maybe your brain is making this up in a drunken daze.

From: You Thanks. How does it feel to always jack off to my pictures? 7:29 PM

From: San🖕 I mean, probably not as good as the real thing 😏 7:31 PM

From: You Guess you’ll never know. 7:32 PM

From: San🖕 Bet. 7:32 PM

From: You I’d feel bad taking money from you. 7:33 PM

You note the dots of him typing as you exact revenge for his relentless teasing. Opportunities like this are far and few between. Time to have a little fun.

From: You So… you’ve jacked off to my pictures? 7:34 PM

The three dots disappear, and you grin to yourself for rendering him speechless. The mention of your name sucks you into the discussion about the rooming situations for the lavish hotel where they decided to have the wedding.

To make the reservations, the wedding party needs to figure out who is staying at the hotel and who is rooming together. Mina’s parents volunteered to pay for all of you to stay for the night before the wedding, which is when the rehearsal will take place, and the wedding night. Though her parents live modestly, they have a lot of money, and it’s crazy to you how much they are willing to spend on their only child for a short moment in her life.

For now, Kyungmi and Yujin will share a room, Sejeong and Yoojung will share one, and you and Mina will share another. Mina knows Mingi and San will room together and thinks the groomsmen Jongho and Seonghwa will as well. Mingi’s older brother is undecided, leaving Yunho to possibly room with the other two groomsmen. If his brother stays at the hotel, he will most likely get a room with his wife.

The tasting finally concludes, and the bill is split evenly for it. Upon hearing that your visit is for Mina’s bachelorette party, the manager on hand makes the charcuterie board and additional bottle of wine complimentary. Mina orders a bottle of champagne for her and Mingi’s wedding night and two wines from the tasting to have with your takeout pizza at her apartment. You get a bottle of the strawberry wine you really liked during the tasting since you didn’t have as much as everyone else. As the waiter hands back your cards, the bride-to-be and one of her bridesmaids are whispering on the other side of the table.

“Ask him. Ask him,” Mina elbows Kyungmi, who reluctantly gives in.

“Do you have a business card for the vineyard?” She asks the server, looking up at him through her lashes and raising her eyebrows suggestively.

He grins handsomely and pulls out a card and pen before quickly jotting something down and handing it over.

“You have so much power. What the fuck,” Yoojung says in awe when he walks away.

“Alcohol, my dude.” Kyungmi finger-guns.

Grabbing all your things, you head to the grand entrance of the vineyard to leave. Yujin’s comment is still lingering in your mind, and it’s slowly starting to piss you off again. You really want to say something, but you don’t like confrontation. Like, what would you even say? She specializes in snide remarks, credit to her mother. She could probably destroy you in less than five words.

In the parking lot, Sejeong stops you from going towards the passenger side of her car and asks, “Can you drive? I’m still kind of feeling the wine.”

The pressure to not wreck your own car is a lot, but the pressure to not wreck someone else’s car? Even worse. As long as it isn’t that person crashing because of alcohol, you will gladly take on that pressure. Throughout the tasting, you only had small sips of wine and drank mostly water so that you and Sejeong would be the sober ones to take care of the others. It’s best she doesn’t drive if she doesn’t think it’s safe.

“Yeah,” you answer, taking her keys.

As you drive back into town, the girls become talkative again. The rowdy ones in the back heckle Kyungmi to text that server while Sejeong orders pizzas for pickup.

“Play WAP to hype Kyungmi up!” Yujin shouts from the backseat.

“We are not blaring WAP in this car,” you stand your ground.

“Play Bad Girls by M.I.A.” Yoojung suggests.

Mina quickly cuts in, “Bad Girls? The baddest thing you’ve done is accidentally steal a pen from a store after signing a receipt.”

“Guys, be quiet! They can’t hear me,” Sejeong yells over their argument, hand covering the phone’s microphone.

“I need to pee!” Kyungmi whines.

“You can go in with Sejeong at the pizza place,” you assure her.

A headache is starting to form across your forehead. You wish you were less sober so you wouldn’t have to worry about everyone right now. It feels like a mistake volunteering to be one of the designated drivers, but who else would be one? Luckily, they quiet down long enough for Sejeong to place your orders.

“We should take a picture to remember tonight,” Yoojung mumbles with a slight slur and nudges Sejeong with her phone to take it.

“Everyone, look up here,” Sejeong commands with a smile and holds the phone up. You momentarily take your eyes off the road once she counts down to take the picture.

“You should send it to the guys,” Kyungmi suggests.

“No, don’t bother them,” you say, knowing you probably don’t look that good in the photo. The overhead lighting in the car is shit, your makeup is probably starting to run down your face since you put it on several hours ago, and there’s a good chance you’re not even looking into the camera.

“Send it!” Kyungmi sings from the very back with Yujin clinging to her, giggling, “Show them how hot we are and how much fun we’re having!”

Mina and Yoojung snicker behind Yoojung’s phone, which is succeeded by all your phones going off.

Chat: ✨Wedding Party✨ From: Yoojung🌱 IMG_3831 8:41 PM

Chat: ✨Wedding Party✨ From: Yunho🐶 IMG_2475 8:43 PM

“Look at these thirst traps,” Sejeong laughs, flashing you the image from the group chat.

Yunho sent a photo of the guys in his car on the way to wherever the bachelor party is. Your eyes instantly land on San, and oh, no… He looks hot in leather with his hair pushed back. Even more of your sanity is lost. But you must compose yourself and get your eyes back on the road.

The pizzeria isn’t much further, so by the time you park you only need to wait a few minutes until your pizzas are done. Kyungmi accompanies Sejeong inside, and through the storefront windows, you watch her aggressively penguin walk to the bathroom.

To be nice, you allow Mina to plug her phone into the stereo. The first thing she plays is a Kesha song. She rolls her window down just as the chorus is about to start and leans her head out belting out the lyrics, “I’m a mother fucking woman, baby, alright!”

Yoojung quickly follows suit, “Don’t need a man to be holdin’ me too tight!”

You whip around in your seat and reprimand them, “Roll it back up, now. You’re going to get us in trouble.”

The two of them grumble as they do as they are told. They have officially lost their radio privileges. You don’t want to be a buzzkill, but someone has to keep them in line. In silence for a few minutes, you wonder what’s taking them so long in the restaurant. Before you call Sejeong to ask, you notice a text from San.

From: San🖕 Cute IMG_8533 8:56 PM

The image is a zoomed-in screenshot of your face from the picture Yoojung sent. Goddammit, you weren’t looking at the camera. He has to be messing with you because, frankly, you look kind of stupid.

From: You Shouldn’t you be busy right now? 8:58 PM

From: San🖕 I am, by complimenting you 8:58 PM

From: You You jack off to that one too? 8:59 PM

“What are you smirking about up there?” Mina leans forward between the front seats to peep on your messages.

As a knee-jerk reaction, you press your phone against your chest, looking guilty as hell.

“Nothing.”

Before San responds, Sejeong and Kyungmi slip back into the car, and you resume the drive to Mina’s apartment without the kids in the backseats acting up again. Once inside, you and Sejeong whip out the penis party stuff. While everyone is distracted, Kyungmi disappears.

“Why are penises on everything?” Mina laughs, looking at the plates and napkins.

“It’s all that was in the bachelorette party section of one of those sex stores,” you inform her. Maybe you should have just gotten generic party stuff at a grocery store. The selection at grocery stores is probably just as small, but at least it wouldn’t look tacky.

When you’re ready to dig into the pizzas, Yoojung doesn’t allow you. The main living room lights go out and LED strips turn on.

“You better not have gotten me a stripper,” Mina warns, eyes shooting each girl of the bridal party.

Mina’s bedroom door cracks ajar, revealing only a sliver of darkness.

“We’ve gotten a few noise complaints about this apartment,” Kyungmi says before kicking the door completely open, drenching her sleazy police uniform in the neon light, “For not being loud enough!”

The other girls squeal as Yoojung starts the music. Kyungmi dances her way across the room to Mina, trying to suppress her grin to stay in character. You stand in the kitchen watching the dumpster fire from afar, not really wanting to be a part of it.

“Where is the bride’s crown?” Kyungmi summons Yoojung with the penis crown you brought.

Mina dies laughing while Kyungmi places it on her head and then spins around to shake her ass to the beat of the song. The pizza is completely forgotten, and the bridesmaids are engrossed in the striptease. And, rightfully so, because Kyungmi is actually pretty good at dancing. You wonder if she is just freestyling or if she and Yoojung came up with a routine. Either way, you’re impressed.

Kyungmi goes around to give a little love to the other girls. Before she reaches the other older bridesmaid, Sejeong produces a few bills from her purse, which she makes a show of slipping them into the waistband of the micro mini skirt of the police officer costume. This causes everyone to break down in laughing tears. Kyungmi can’t even finish dancing to the song and surrenders in Sejeong’s lap.

When the regular lights are turned back on, the pizza is finally torn apart onto separate plates as more wine is poured to keep the party going

“Alright, eat your pizza so we can watch the movie,” Sejeong reins you all back in from the chaos.

Kyungmi asks with her mouth full, “Why can’t we eat while we watch it?”

“Because I don’t trust y’all to eat in the dark,” Mina answers.

“Kyungmi, why don’t you go change?” Yujin eyes the girl who just sat next to her on the couch and whose skirt doesn’t cover her cheeks on the cushions.

“I’ve got nothing to hide,” Kyungmi quips with a smug expression on her face.

That reminds you of someone…

As the atmosphere winds down, you glance at your phone and notice a text from that certain someone. You wish you hadn’t read it as soon as you open it. Your eyes roll out of annoyance because San is really just trying to piss you off.

From: San🖕 Why would I do that when half naked women are all around me? 9:01 PM

From: You Isn’t it illegal to masturbate in the middle of a strip club? 9:42 PM

From: San🖕 Yeah but that doesn’t mean I can’t be turned on. 9:43 PM

From: You Yeah, I don’t really want to hear about that. 9:45 PM

Though you have never been to a strip club, it feels kind of early for the fun to start. Additionally, no one has really confirmed where the guys went for the bachelor party. You don’t think Mina would allow them to go to a strip club, and if it was suggested, she definitely would have complained to you about it.

From: San🖕 I can see you up there dancing. 9:52 PM

From: You That would never happen. 9:53 PM

From: San🖕 I’d want a private show, though. 9:55 PM

You glance up from your phone, debating to ask Mina. When there’s a lull in the conversation, you take your chance.

“Hey, what are the guys doing for the bachelor party?”

“They went to some adult laser tag bar place,” Mina says, trying to think of the name of the bar.

“They went to play drunk laser tag? That doesn’t sound safe,” Sejeong comments.

“I know. Mingi isn’t the most coordinated, so I told him if he comes back with a black eye, he’ll be in trouble.”

The rest of the conversation goes on in the background as you call San out on his bullshit.

From: You Mina said you aren’t even at a strip club… 10:01 PM

From: San🖕 lol you asked her? Were you that worried that we were? I just wanted to see your reaction, but I wouldn’t say no to a private show 😏 10:05 PM

From: You I would. 10:05 PM

From: San🖕 I’d love to see you slowly dance out of your clothes down to some sexy lingerie, grinding down on me. 10:08 PM

You don’t know about the stripping part, but you are definitely imagining grinding on him, legs straddling his lap. His hands would slide up your thighs to your hips and guide your movements as you impatiently find the friction you so desperately want. He would tilt his head back, his face twisting in pleasure. Your nails would dig into his shoulders where you balance yourself. He would swear under his breath and praise you for how well you’re doing. His fingers would thread through your hair and-

“Y/N?”

You hum in response as you fall hard back down to earth from your wet daydream.

“You wanna change clothes before we start the movie?” Sejeong asks as she picks up empty plates.

“Oh, yeah,” you mumble and head to the bathroom with the bag you packed.

Once in comfy clothes, you claim the armchair in Mina’s living room, too afraid of someone accidentally catching a rogue text from San. At this point, there is no telling what he will send you, especially since he is currently high on flustering you. You wouldn’t mind those types of messages right now. There is some alcohol in your system from the wine you just had, and San has planted a seed of sin in your mind. A bit of flirtatious texting isn’t going to cause any serious damage, right?

That is your mindset until you notice a sobering text from a little while ago.

From: Seonghwa😇 What are you texting San about? 10:11 PM

From: You How do you know I’m texting him? 10:17 PM

You return to your conversation with San. He has no idea the image he painted in your mind with that singular sentence. But because Seonghwa is aware of your texting, the flirting can’t go any further.

From: You You really have no shame. 10:18 PM

With that final text to San, you force yourself to ignore the vibrations of your phone as Mina figures out how to login into a streaming service on her smart TV. Your heart is palpitating from the adrenaline caused by both men’s texts and needs a few good minutes to calm down. But after the third alert, you give in.

From: Seonghwa😇 I can see your name every time his phone lights up on the table… 10:19 PM

From: Seonghwa😇 Is he bothering you? I’ll tell him to stop. 10:21 PM

From: You No, it’s fine. I can handle him on my own. 10:22 PM

You switch over to the conversation with San.

From: San🖕 😘 10:20 PM

From: San🖕 👉👌 10:20 PM

From: You 🍆 🏌️‍♀️ 10:23 PM

From: San🖕 lmao 10:24 PM

The movie Bridesmaids starts in the background, and you try to pull your attention to the television. Mina plops down between Yoojung and Sejeong, snuggling in under a blanket. Not even 60 seconds later, your phone goes off again.

From: San🖕 Seonghwa just told me to stop texting you lmao 10:25 PM

What the hell, Seonghwa? As you think of a response, Mina calls you out.

“Phone away, Y/N.”

A subtle pout is on your lips while you place your phone face down on the armrest. Tonight is about Mina, not San, no matter how thirsty that man makes you. Have fun with your best friend while she is single and still has time to do this. It is girls’ night out, no boys allowed.

With the amount of times you have seen this film, you should be able to recite the script as easily as the alphabet. But it has been a few years since the last time you watched it. There are certain aspects you remember.

The main character Annie is seeing a man her friends don’t approve of, and she knows it’s not a relationship she actually wants. She’s jealous of her best friend because her friend is doing what she wants to be doing; Annie feels stuck not being able to fulfill the societal norms of adulthood. It all hits way too close to home.

“Y/N, I’m so glad you’re not like that,” Mina comments at one point.

Though you are not, you understand why Annie is acting that way. Jealousy can make you do crazy things. Her closest friendship is threatened, she can’t maintain a stable romantic relationship while her best friend is settling down, and her relationship with herself is clouded by the expectations others have of her. Her way of coping is the only problem… and that’s the only difference between you. You fear bothering, annoying, and angering anyone important to you, therefore you don’t lash out like Annie… or maybe you just haven’t reached your breaking point yet.

Just before the credits start rolling you finally look at your phone and note two text messages, one from one of your employees and one from San. Because it isn’t normal for your employee to text you this late, you tap on hers first.

From: Sammy🛍 Hey, I just got a call about a family emergency and have to go out of town. Can you pick up my shift tomorrow? 10:28 PM

A lamp in the corner is turned on as Mina and Sejeong stand to stretch. The other girls are fast asleep on the floor and loveseat couch. You grab a few empty cups and creep into the kitchen to put everything away.

“One of my assistant managers texted me during the movie and asked if I could cover her shift in the morning,” you quietly groan to your friends as you assure Sammy that you will, “I’m not mentally prepared for that.”

“Do you need to go home?” Mina questions with concern.

“Not yet. I’ll finish helping clean up,” you say as she looks down at her vibrating phone.

“Mingi wants me to meet him and San at his apartment as soon as possible,” Mina says after reading the text.

Your heart begins pounding in your chest at the mention of San’s name.

“Did he say why?” Sejeong asks, half-absorbed in rinsing out wine glasses.

“No, and he’s not replying, so he must be driving. I can’t drive since I just had wine.”

“I’ll take you,” you immediately offer, grabbing your overnight bag. You only had one glass when you returned, and that was before the movie started. Plus, you will take this chance to see San, maybe even smack him around a bit for trying to rile you up.

“Are you sure? Don’t you need to go to bed?” Mina looks guilty.

“I’ll be fine. I don’t want you driving even if you think you can make it over there.”

“I can take her,” Sejeong tries to relieve you of the burden.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just drop her back off when we’re done and then go home.”

“Okay, I’ll stay here in case they wake up,” she says, following you two to the door.

As you head down to your car, you finally check San’s text from over an hour ago.

From: San🖕 Y/N? 10:33 PM

Fuck, he probably thinks you’re ignoring him now, and you don’t have time to respond as you need to hurry over to his apartment. Endless possibilities of what could be Mingi’s emergency run through your mind. The lack of response from him worries you, but you don’t bring that up for fear of panicking Mina. It could be something that isn’t an actual emergency.

As you roll up to Mingi and San’s apartment, Mina points out the pair walking to the building’s entrance. San looks like he’s holding his head which is fairly concerning considering where they have been all night. Mina and you get out quickly and rush to catch up.

“What happened?” You ask as soon as you see the bloody paper towels San is pressing to his brow bone.

“You want to tell them?” San looks to Mingi, who subtly shakes his head.

“I accidentally scared him, and he threw his laser gun at me.”

“This is exactly why I said this was a bad idea,” Mina immediately reprimands them, “Let’s get up to the apartment so that we can look at it.”

“Technically speaking, you said you didn’t want me getting hurt,” Mingi levels with his fiancee.

The look she gives him silences him the rest of the way up. Once inside, San turns around a dining room chair and sits, looking at you and Mina expectantly. Knowing Mina isn’t good with blood, you take charge.

“Do you have a first aid kit or something?” You look between the boys, and Mingi hurries to retrieve it from their bathroom.

Mina hovers behind you, simmering, “Why didn’t the bar help you?”

“They said they were out of bandages, and then they told us to go to a hospital,” San answers while making himself comfortable in the chair.

“Why didn’t you go to one?” You ask, confused and annoyed by the situation.

“I am not going to a hospital over a little cut. I’m not a baby.”

Your eyebrow shoots up at the absurdity coming out of his mouth.

“Maybe a kiss will make it better,” he still manages to hit on you.

You glare at him unimpressed and ask, “Really?”

“Just trying to lighten the mood,” he contends, “Or get you in the mood. Whatever works.”

“Shut up,” you say as you grab his wrist and pry away the tissues stuck to his injury to check the damage.

“Ow, that fucking hurt!” He shouts, pressing the tissues against the cut once again.

“Here. Give me your finger. I’ll give you something else to cry about,” she quips with her hand out and eyes on fire, just as her fiancé comes back with a plastic box.

“Babe, it wasn’t his fault,” Mingi says with a sliver of panic in his voice.

“Now, his face is going to be fucked up for the wedding,” she yells.

“Yeah, it’s definitely going to leave a scar. The hair might not grow back for a while,” you reenter the conversation as you dig through the bandaids until you find the right one, “It might not be too noticeable by the wedding. San, move the paper towel.”

“Why is there so much blood?” Mina sounds frenzied looking at the tissues.

“He’s had alcohol,” you remind her while you disinfect his wound with a dab of a cotton ball doused with hydrogen peroxide. He winces and groans at the stinging sensation.

“I can’t watch. I might pass out,” she says as she goes to sit on their couch.

His eyebrow is split but not enough to need stitches, at least in your opinion. After peeling the backing off of the bandaid, you gently touch around the cut.

“I’m putting a butterfly bandage on it. I have to pinch the skin back together, so it might hurt,” you warn him, and before he can respond you squeeze it closed.

He hisses at the pain, trying not to jerk away, “Hurry up. Jesus Christ.”

His hands naturally hold onto your waist, his fingers digging into you, channeling his discomfort to its source. One side of the bandage is in place, and you attempt to align the skin accurately.

“I’ll take my sweet time.”

He groans in misery and annoyance, “Sadism.”

Your face feels like it’s burning. You can’t believe he is bringing up your stupid midnight conversation from several nights ago.

“Shut up.”

When you finally secure the bandaid, he opens his eye and blinks a few times.

“Does it look badass?”

“You look stupid,” Mina deadpans, quite obviously not over the fact she was right about someone getting hurt. She moves from the couch to look at your bandaging work now that the blood isn’t everywhere.

“He always looks like that though,” you joke as San defends himself.

“I didn’t even do it!”

“Be still,” you demand, placing a small square of gauze over the butterfly bandage and taping it down with surgical tape.

“At least I didn’t knock him out,” Mingi chuckles.

“You didn’t hit me hard enough for that.”

“I bet I could though.”

“Why are men like this?” Mina quietly comments to you as you step out of San’s personal space.

San folds his arms across his chest and lounges back in the chair. “No, but I could definitely knock you out.”

“That’s not fair. You’ve had practice.”

“Practice?” Mina echos.

“It was one time,” San downplays.

“What happened?” You ask, bewilderedly looking between the two boys.

Mingi is quick and proud to answer, “Some dude put his hand up one of our friends’ skirts. San confronted him and ended up decking him in the face.”

“That’s surprising,” you say with raised eyebrows and notice San’s face sour, “That you would hit someone.”

His expression softens at your addition. “That was a few years ago. It was a young and dumb decision.”

“It wasn’t dumb. Fuck that guy,” Mingi says, and Mina smacks his arm, telling him to watch his mouth.

As the couple begins arguing over who should stop swearing, you awkwardly start shuffling everything back into the kit, and San wordlessly helps.

But after a moment, he sighs, “I have a meeting in the morning, and of course, this happens.”

“I have work in the morning too.”

“You should stay the night in case I need a nurse.”

You glance at him after closing the little first aid box, “I’m not a nurse.”

“You could dress up as one, and I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“I’m not playing into your role-play kink.”

“I’ll mark that one off the list then.”

Your eyes roll back into your head when you realize what he’s joking about again, and you could almost die from exasperation. Then you realize something else.

“Wait, you have a meeting on a weekend?”

“Yeah, it’s an emergency meeting because someone messed up a report with a client.”

Before you can ask if it’s for that nursing home, Mingi suddenly slaps a hand on San’s shoulder and asks, “Did you keep that napkin the bartender wrote her number on?”

Your eyes dart to San. You want to interrogate him about what he did with her number in retaliation to how he acted when that pizzeria guy gave you his number. You want to be petty, take the napkin from him, and set it on fire in front of him. But you can’t do anything because Mina and Mingi don’t know about that night, that you hung out together, that San showed a protective, borderline-possessive side of himself. San notices the flames inside your eyes and grabs the tissues he once held against his eyebrow.

“I guess I can’t call her now,” he says, unraveling the dried bloody napkin, the inked number lost in the dark crimson red. The little smirk on his face is telling of how he feels seeing you physically snap into jealousy. Calling her was never in his plans.

Fuck this, you need sleep.

“As much fun as this has been, I need to go,” you announce before directing your attention to Mina, “Do you need me to take you home?”

“No, Mingi will,” she says, and he confusedly complains.

“I can send you a medical nude in the morning, so you can see how it’s doing,” San offers with a grin.

“What the hell?” Mina questions with a hint of disbelief, “Why would you be nude?”

“I’d take the bandage off,” he quips.

Mina steps towards him, but you hold her back with your arm.

“Get smart with me again, and I’ll break your nose,” she warns.

“We’ll laugh about this one day,” Mingi sighs hopefully. San glares at him while Mina starts in about how she will never laugh about their incident and that it isn’t funny because San’s face will look busted for the wedding.

You take that as your cue to leave. The day has been a rollercoaster of emotions, and you are absolutely exhausted. When your head finally hits your pillow, you are out. Getting up the next morning for work is agonizing. You plan to spend your time in your small office, so you don’t have to deal with people. You have had enough human interactions within the last 24 hours.

But before you leave home, your phone lights up with a call from San. What could he possibly want right now?

“Hey,” he says as soon as you answer, “It kept bleeding through the gauze, so we went to the ER last night. They had to put in a stitch or two.”

Your heartbeat picks up a bit. You feel bad for being annoyed by his call, even though he has no idea that you were.

“Did they give you anything for the pain?” You ask, making sure to speak in a soft voice.

“They just told me to take over-the-counter pain meds every six hours if needed.”

“Is it feeling any better?”

“It’s a lot sorer now that the bruising is showing up. I can’t show any emotion without being in pain.”

A small chuckle huffs out your nose before concealing your amusement. “Do you need me to bring you anything?”

There’s a short pause before he mumbles, “No.”

Did you just make him shy?

He clears his throat and continues, “Did you tell Seonghwa to tell me to stop texting you last night?”

Oh, fuck. You have hoped to avoid this confrontation.

“No? He asked me why I was texting you and then said he would tell you to stop. I told him he didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh.” The word is barely audible.

“Why?”

“You never responded after I told you he did that.”

“I got yelled at for using my phone during the movie, and right after the movie, we came over. I didn’t get the chance to respond.”

“Oh.” This time the word is louder, more confident.

You pull away from your phone to check the time. You can spare a few more minutes.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to bring you anything? I have time before I go to work.”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

A feminine voice speaks his name in the background, and your heart falls into the pit of your stomach. He must have a girl over since he is insistent that you not stop by. He must have called you with a girl in his bed just to taunt you. Did he end up calling that bartender? He really knows how to make you not stand him. Anger fills your chest, and you try to keep it from overflowing out of your mouth.

“You seem busy. I’ll let you go,” you say tersely.

“No, it’s fine. I’m on a break.”

Oh, so it’s a quicky?

“I have work. Bye,” you mumble before ending the call.

This crush is getting out of hand. You are constantly in need of a reminder.

He’s not yours.

He is not yours.

He. Is. Not. Yours.

HE. IS. NOT. YOURS.

Those words repeat in your mind like a mantra, plaguing your time at work. When your brain strays to that phone call and the woman’s voice, you mentally slap yourself. But, god, do you feel stupid, liking a man who will never like you in the same way.

After work, you order your favorite takeout to comfort yourself, and once you have consumed it, you still feel that little emptiness that San will never fill. In the shower, you can’t stop thinking about that woman and how naive you are. Moving your pity party to your bedroom, you feel your phone vibrate in your hand.

From: San🖕 Are you home? 9:26 PM

From: You Yeah, why? 9:27 PM

Suddenly, you panic that he might be at your door. You are currently naked in a towel, and your apartment isn’t the cleanest right now. It would be embarrassing for him to walk in and think “You live like this?”

From: You You’re not here again, are you? 9:27 PM

Your screen lights up with a video call from San. That’s better than him being physically here, but you still feel a little alarmed. Now, you just have to angle your camera away from the 500 empty cups on your nightstand and the pile of clothes you have been too lazy to put away…

“Why are you video-calling me?” You ask the moment his face appears after accepting the call.

“I thought you might want to see the stitches,” he says, bringing the camera closer for a better view.

“Oh, shit. He got you pretty good.”

The cut looks bigger than you remember, or maybe that’s because part of his eyebrow was shaved off at the hospital.

“Someone at work asked me what happened, and I told him he should see the other guy,” he jokes as he studies the injury on his screen.

“Really?” You shoot him a look through the camera.

He shrugs, “They don’t need to know the real story.”

“Hang on. I’m changing into my pajamas.” You lay your phone on your sheets and head to your dresser to quickly slip on your flannel button-down and pants.

You can hear San quickly exhale through his nose before he says suggestively with what you know is a smirk, “Since this conversation is show and tell…”

“… I’m hanging up now,” you announce as you pick up your phone again, fully clothed. You settle down in bed, sitting up against the headboard.

“I’m kidding,” he laughs, “How was the girls’ party?”

“It was good. The wine tasting was nice. But dealing with all of them drunk is like herding cats.”

He chuckles, “Sweet little Mina was a handful?”

“Her and Kyungmi were absolute chaos. The amount of times I heard ‘shark coochie’ yesterday was more than my entire life up until yesterday.”

“Shark coochie?”

“We had a charcuterie board at the vineyard.”

You watch it register in his head before he cracks up, a hand coming up to cover his cute grin.

“Anyways… How was the guys’ party before you got beat up?”

“It was fun. There was another group of guys at the bar, and they wanted to play against us. We went a couple of rounds before we got more drinks. Then during that last game, I came around a corner and scared the shit out of Mingi.”

“You were warned it was a bad idea. Was it worth that?”

“Absolutely,” he stands by his decision, “I just hate that my eyebrow took all damn night. I was so tired this morning when I went to the office.”

Your heart falls into the pit of your stomach.

“You didn’t have the meeting online?”

He shakes his head, “No, but it wasn’t a super long meeting, so I came back home and slept for a while.”

That woman must have been a coworker. God, you are such an idiot. Even still, he is not yours. Sadly, your brain recalls his words, “Can’t let them get attached.” You really need to chill before he thinks you are getting attached.

Not wanting to waste any more time on that, you change the topic, “I just remembered something. How much was that vase I broke?”

“Why?”

“I want to pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll find out how much it was and leave that money somewhere in your apartment so that you find it later thinking you left it there.”

“You will never leave my sight in my apartment again.”

“You’re not going to watch me use the toilet,” you contend.

“Fine, but if I find money in the bathroom, I’ll know it was you and give it back.”

“I won’t accept it.”

“Then I’ll hide it somewhere in your apartment.”

Your hand drops to your bed, his view now the ceiling, as you groan, “You’re so annoying!”

His adorable little giggles fill your room and warm your heart.

Why can’t he be yours?

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kelyon · 2 years

Text

Dark Mistress 15: Maturation

Baelfire feels like he is growing up.

Read on AO3

It was almost dawn when Baelfire woke up to the sound of someone retching. He threw open the blankets that hung around his bed and poked his head out into the main room of the cottage. In the dim light, he saw his father sitting on the hearthstones with his head bent over the slop bucket.

“Papa?” he said. “Are you sick?”

He shook his head. “It must have been something I ate.”

Baelfire doubted that. The two of them ate the same food every day, and he felt fine. Besides, over the past few months he’d developed a sense for when his father was lying to him.

Still, Baelfire couldn’t let him suffer alone. He got out of bed and began to put on his shoes. “Mint is good for an upset stomach, right?”

Eyes closed, Papa nodded.

He put on his cloak and grabbed the water bucket before he went outside. There was frost on the ground, but the mint was growing strong. It was one of the first spring herbs. He gathered enough to make a tea, then went to the creek for fresh water.

When he got inside, Papa was putting on his outdoor clothes. He seemed recovered, as healthy as he ever was.

“Since we’re both awake, we might as well start the day.” He picked up his staff. “You go ahead and make breakfast. I want to check on the sheep.”

Baelfire nodded and set to work stoking the fire. At least Papa was well enough to walk to the barn. And the sheep certainly needed looking after.

The stud ram they’d rented in the fall had done his job, all four ewes had gotten pregnant. Abbey and Babbey had already given birth without a problem. A few days ago, Baelfire had walked into the barn in the morning and found the new lambs. Only hours old, the fluffy white things were standing up and suckling on their mothers.

Papa said that Cabbey was looking to follow the same pattern as her sisters, but that Dabbey might have a problem. He said her belly was bigger than the other three, so she might be having twins. Twins were good for the herd, but they could be too much for a ewe who was carrying for the first time.

When the water in the kettle had boiled and Papa still hadn’t come back, Baelfire decided to check on him. He heard the bleating as soon as he opened the cottage door. The sheep didn’t normally bleat when they were all together in the barn. Something was wrong.

He told Baguette to stay in the cottage and shut the door behind him. The dog was good at getting the sheep to go into the pasture, but not at keeping them calm when they were in the barn. As he ran across the yard, he looked around for trouble. Something had been spooking the animals these past few weeks. He kept his eyes open for something horrible to come out of the forest.

In the barn, Papa was on his knees in the lambing pen. Before the lambing had started, they’d spent a day weaving supple branches into a fence just big enough to keep a new mother sheep separated from the rest of the herd. Dabbey was laying on her side in a bed of straw. She was oddly quiet. Her breathing was heavy. The bleating Baelfire had heard was from the other sheep. They were concerned because she was away from them.

“Oh, Bae, good. I was just coming to get you. I think she’s going to need our help.”

Baelfire nodded. He didn’t know much about helping a sheep through labor, but he was ready to learn a lot, and fast.

“What are we gonna do?”

Papa pointed toward Dabbey’s head. “You just keep her still and calm. I’ll take care of the messy part.”

Sitting down in the straw, Baelfire watched his father take off his cloak and roll his sleeves up to the elbows. He frowned.

“What’s the messy part?”

Papa caught his eye and grinned. “That’s the kingly life of a shepherd. Right now, our girl isn’t open wide enough for the lambs to come out. I’m going to have to reach in there and pull.”

He must have made a face, because Papa laughed. “That’s why I gave you that end, my son. And count yourself lucky that you’re not younger. Tiny hands would be very useful right now.”

Baelfire concentrated on Dabbey. He held her head in his lap, so his legs were on either side of her. That kept her body from thrashing. He wrapped one arm around her neck, so she couldn’t look around and wouldn’t try to get up. With his other hand, he scratched her woolly head.

“It’s alright, girl,” he said softly. He tried to think of what Papa would say if he was comforting her. “You’ll be alright. Papa won’t let anything happen to you.”

She tried to twist a little, but he held onto her and she stopped. Was he really that strong? Or was it that his sheep trusted him that much? Either way, it made Baelfire feel big inside.

He tried not to look at what Papa was doing. Hearing the squelching noises was bad enough.

“Is it really twins?” he asked to distract himself.

“Well, I’ve seen two noses right next to each other,” Papa grunted. “So it’s either two normal lambs or one very strange one.”

“Do you hear that, Dabbey?” Baelfire stroked between her eyes. “You’re gonna be a mama. You’re gonna have two little lambs to take care of.”

The sheep flicked her ear back at the sound of his voice. He knew what he said didn’t matter to her, but it felt nice to explain things. It was good that he knew what was going on, even if she didn’t. She kept calm and still, just like she was supposed to.

“Got him!” Papa shouted.

When Baelfire looked over at him, he was holding something in two hands. It looked like a wet bundle of muck and sticks, but Baelfire knew it had to be a lamb. Papa set the thing down in front of Dabbey’s nose. She sniffed, and took a tentative lick at the yellow slime that covered her first baby.

“The other lambs didn’t look like that,” Baelfire said. He was trying not to show how absolutely disgusting he found this whole process.

“By the time we saw them their mothers had already cleaned them up,” Papa said. “You’re seeing lambs as new as they can get.”

“Do human babies look like that when they first come out?”

“Yes, but we love you anyway,” Papa grinned. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get his little brother. Unless you want to try?”

“Ugh!”

“Thought not,” Papa chuckled. “I’ll tell you what, Bae. Go back in the house and warm up a bowl of water. Stir in a good bit of honey and bring it back here. Dabbey’s had a rough night of it, we’ll give her something to get her strength back.”

“Better than staying in here.” Before he got up, he gave Dabbey another pat on the head. He thought about petting the lamb, but it was still covered in thick, sticky fluids. He would give mother and child a few hours alone before he got too close.

When he got back with the honey water, there were two lambs in the birthing pen. The new one was getting licked, and the older one was already nursing. Papa stood over them. He practically glowed with happiness and pride.

“Two healthy boys,” he said as he took the honey water and gave it to the sheep. “What more could a parent ask for?”

“I can’t believe they’re real,” Baelfire said. “Do you remember, it was just last year that we bought Dabbey and the other sheep? They were lambs then, and now they’re mothers.”

“We’ve all changed in the past year.” Papa wiped his hands on some straw and let it fall into the pen. Then he wrapped one arm around Baelfire. “You’ve grown quite a bit too.”

For the first time he could remember, Baelfire felt like he had.

****

The days grew warmer and the lambs grew bigger. Green grass covered the pasture. They planted seeds in the garden and paid their rents to the Duke by sowing hay in his fields. The forest burst alive with leaves. Wild animals shook off their winter sleep. Everything was new and fresh and beautiful.

The only problem was that Papa kept leaving at night, and he kept getting sick. Baelfire had gotten used to him going out on the night of the full moon and the new moon. He didn’t like it, and Papa never told him where he was going, but at least he always came back. He’d even come back that time in the winter when he’d been gone for a whole day. Whatever it was he was doing, it had been going on for months now and nothing had gotten any worse. Baelfire tried to let it stop worrying him.

The sickness was new. Baelfire knew in his gut that it was bad. Papa didn’t tell him how often he felt queasy, or if he threw up when Baelfire was doing something else. But he heard him often enough, and the mint in the garden was always picked over. He was used to his father giving up meals if there wasn’t enough for both of them, but now there was plenty to eat and Papa would only pick at his dinner.

He was pale, and always tired. He tried not to let it show, but Baelfire had eagle eyes. Papa did as much work as had to be done, and no more. More than once, he had fallen asleep at his spinning wheel, hours before they normally went to bed.

Worst of all, Papa always said that he was fine. It was true that he never had a fever, and he never had to spend a whole day in bed. But Baelfire wasn’t stupid. This sickness wasn’t going away. It wasn’t anything he ate, it wasn’t just Papa getting old. Something was wrong with him, and they couldn’t even talk about it honestly.

Sometimes the lies and secrets were too much and he had to get away. There was always plenty to do off the farm. Baelfire would go into the forest to hunt for wild herbs and spring mushrooms. He would set traps for rabbits or go to the creek to fish. When Papa did have an appetite, he always devoured meat and leafy greens. If Baelfire couldn’t do anything else, he could at least make sure his father was fed.

****

Morraine’s birthday was a few weeks after the lambing. That afternoon, Baelfire walked through the forest to meet her at the creek bend. His gift to her was safely rolled up inside his cloak. They were lucky to have a few hours when they could both be spared from their chores at the same time. He supposed he could have gone to Morraine’s house and given her his present there. But he didn’t want to intrude on the family’s celebration. For some reason he couldn’t name, it felt important to see Morraine when it could be just the two of them.

All the flowers in the forest had blossomed at the same time. As he walked, Baelfire took the time to pick some of the prettiest ones and make a bouquet. White and pink and yellow and pale purple, they looked good together. He even found a few clusters of blue forget-me-nots. That would be good for a girl’s birthday, wouldn’t it?

It was strange to think of Morraine as “a girl.” She wasn’t a girl, she was his friend. They used to run around together the way lambs frolic in the pasture. They used to play in the mud and make “potions'' with sticks and leaves. On summer days they used to take off their clothes and swim in the creek. They had been children together, before they knew anything about the war or being hungry, or working so hard their bones ached.

Maybe it was silly to give her flowers. Maybe his other gift was silly too. Maybe she would laugh at him, tell him he was being too serious. Baelfire rubbed his hands on his breeches. His palms were sweaty. He paced around the bank of the creek, where he waited for her. Maybe she wasn’t coming.

Maybe he wasn’t important enough for her to take the time to come see.

Taking a breath, Baelfire sat down on a log and held his head in his hands. Now he was being silly. Morraine wouldn’t leave him out here alone, she wasn’t that kind of person. If she didn’t want to see him, she would have told him so. When they’d talked on market day about meeting here, she’d been excited--and he hadn’t even told her he had a present for her.

He had to trust Morraine. She had been his friend all his life. Growing up wasn’t going to change that.

He heard her humming before he saw her. He recognized the tune. It was one of those songs about a girl who loses something on a fine spring day and asks a handsome lad to help her find it on a sunny hill. There was a bounce in her step as she walked up the path.

Baelfire stood up. Normally, when Morraine hummed and bounced like that, her hair would bounce with her. She usually wore it long and loose. It would shine like gold, or stalks of wheat.

But now… Now her hair was up. It was braided and pinned on top of her head. He could see her neck.

He’d seen her neck a thousand times, but suddenly it was different. Suddenly, she wasn’t just Morraine anymore. She wasn’t even just “a girl.” She was a woman. Suddenly, he couldn’t stop looking at her neck. Her neck, and her shoulders, and her collarbone, and her…

“Hello, Baelfire!” she said as she came to the creek bank. She smiled her triangle smile and Baelfire’s mouth went dry.

“Hey,” he said. Thank the gods his voice hadn’t cracked. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you!” She gave him a friendly hug. Baelfire had to let go of her quickly and step away so he didn’t embarrass himself.

“I picked these for you.” He held up the bouquet with his arm straight out. He looked like an idiot, but Morraine’s eyes lit up.

“Stars above. Baelfire!” She took the flowers and pressed them to her nose. “They’re beautiful!”

Like you. He thought the words, but was too nervous to say them.

Morraine took the cluster of forget-me-nots out of the bouquet and tucked them behind her ear. “Now I’ll never forget you, Baelfire. Even when I’m old and gray.”

“Good,” he breathed. Then he remembered himself and took her other present out of his cloak. “I’ve got something else too.”

“Really? What?”

It was one of the pieces of paper he’d bought from the merchant over the winter. There were only three sheets left now, but it was worth it to give this to her. He’d rolled it up like a scroll and tied it with a piece of yarn. Morraine undid the bow and let the paper roll out.

She didn’t say anything.

When Baelfire dared to look at her, she wasn’t smiling. Her eyes were wide and her lips were in the shape of an O.

He wanted to say something, but there was nothing he could say. If she didn’t like the present, he couldn’t take it back. He couldn’t pretend it was actually for someone else, or that he hadn’t worked hard at it all winter long. If she didn’t like it--if she didn’t think it was good enough--then Baelfire had no choice but to hear her say it.

“What do you think?”

“It’s me,” Morraine whispered as she stared at the drawing. “You… You drew a picture of me.”

Lips pressed together, Baelfire nodded. “I had to do it in ink, because I was afraid the charcoal would smudge when I rolled it up. I hope you don’t mind it’s just your face, I really wanted to pay attention to--”

He stopped talking when she barrelled into him for a hug. Her hug before had been friendly and happy. But now she was hugging him tight, tighter than anyone else in his life.

For a minute, his arms stayed stiffly by his side. Slowly, he raised his hands, then wrapped them around Morraine’s body. She was softer than he thought she’d be. There were curves that seemed just right for his arms to rest against. They fit together. His nose bumped against the top of her head. He could smell the flowers in her hair.

It was so nice.

They broke apart. Morraine took a step back and kept her eyes on the ground. She tried to press her lips together, but her smile was too big to hide.

“Thank you.” Her voice was a little mouse squeak.

“You’re welcome.” Baelfire didn’t think he’d ever be able to breathe again. “Of course, I did the drawing before I knew you were going to change your hair.”

“I don’t mind,” she said quickly. “I like it a lot, actually. Now I’ll be able to show people what I looked like when I was fourteen.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Even when you’re old and gray.”

She giggled, and Baelfire had to take another step away. In the back of his mind, he knew that if he stayed too close to Morraine, he would hug her again and probably wouldn’t ever let go.

He cleared his throat. “That’s a pretty dress.”

She twirled around so the long skirt flared out. “Do you like it? Mama said after she had the new baby this winter, she would never fit in this again, so she fixed it up for me.”

Baelfire blinked. That was Tabbat’s dress, the blue one she wore on market day. It was in the new style, with laces up the back so it could be pulled tight and show off more of a woman’s figure. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Morriane had a figure now. Those were the curves he had felt during their hug. The grown-up dress showed off that his friend had a waist. She had hips. Gods, she even had a bosom.

“You… you look prettier than the Blue Star.”

Her cheeks went pink. “If this is what being fifteen is going to be like, I think I’m going to like it a lot.”

His heart was pounding, almost too loud for him to hear his own words. “I hope it is.”

“You’ll have to tell me on your birthday, if you like being fifteen.”

His birthday was in three days. “Papa will be sheering the Duke’s sheep on my birthday. I’ll be helping him. Will you be able to stop by?”

“Of course. Maybe I’ll help you help your father.”

“I’d like that.”

Morraine set her presents on the ground and sat on the fallen log. When they were little, they would pretend that the log was a giant wall that separated the world of humans from the land of monsters. Now, sitting next to Morraine was as much of an adventure as defending the kingdom had ever been.

“I’m going to wish on the Blue Star tonight,” she announced. “If you make a wish on your birthday it’s sure to come true.”

In Baelfire’s experience, wishes only came true if your parents could already give you everything you needed. But Morraine already had that, so maybe she’d be luckier with the stars than he’d ever been.

“What will you wish for?”

Her jaw dropped and she pretended to be angry. “I can’t tell you that! Telling is how you make sure a wish never comes true.”

“Oh.” Maybe that had been his problem all this time.

“I’d like to go out into the forest tonight and climb a tall hill to make my wish, but Mama says it’s too dangerous. I’ll have to stay in the garden.”

“Why is it dangerous? Because you’re a girl?”

Morraine rolled her eyes at him. “My mother would never say that. No, she’s not letting any of us go out at night, not even Toma. Not while those stories are going around.”

“What stories?”

“You haven’t heard? Oh, you might not have, out on your farm. I only heard because of what hunters say when they come to Papa’s shop to sell meat.” Morraine leaned forward, like she was about to share a secret. “Word has been going around for months that the Dark One has been spotted in the woods around here.”

Baelfire sat up straight. The Dark One was the most evil thing in the world. Mother of devils, stealer of babies, murderer of everything that was light and good.

“That can’t be true.”

“It is! Up at the castle, they say the old Duke called on her the very day he died.”

“Wait, the Duke is dead?”

“Has been since the autumn. Some of the people who work up there saw it all. They say that he asked her for help and she killed him. The new Duke forbade anyone from talking about it, but you can’t stop the truth forever. Some say she took a liking to the new Duke’s wife, and that’s why she’s been lurking around the land.”

“Yeah, I--I thought the Dark One lived in the Gray Forest. That’s a week’s journey away from here.”

Morraine shrugged. “Maybe she saw that the ogres were gone and decided to make a new home.”

“I hope not.” Baelfire crossed his arms over his knees. “Things were just starting to get better around here.”

“All the stories say they only ever see her in the forest, and only ever at night. I mean, unless someone is desperate enough to call her. And it’s not even all the time that people see her. Only on nights with a new moon or a full moon.”

Baelfire’s heart dropped to his stomach. Then his stomach dropped to the ground.

“What?”

Morraine nodded. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Why would she come out when the stars are in the sky? Anyone who wants anything can just wish on them instead of making one of her deals.”

“But--” Baelfire stood up. He wanted to pace, but he didn’t want Morraine to know he was upset. “But you said the new moon and the full moon, right? Only then?”

She shrugged. “That’s what the rumors say.”

“What does she do? Do the rumors say that?”

To his surprise, Morraine giggled. “Well…” she started. “They never say what she’s doing. But the way people talk makes it sound like…” Her face went red and she couldn’t finish.

“That?” Baelfire was going to throw up. “The Dark One does that?”

“Well, she is a woman,” Morraine said. “And some of the stories say she’s beautiful. She always wants things from people, she must want that too.”

“Who would do that?” Ropes of dread crept over his body. “Why would anyone do that with something so evil as the Dark One?”

Morraine stood up off the log and brushed off her skirt. “My mother says that what goes on between a man and a woman can be a lot of fun, even if you do get a baby at the end of it.”

“But the Dark One isn’t a woman.” He was speaking more to himself more than to Morraine. “The Dark One is a monster. Why…” He turned to his friend. “Has anyone ever seen who she’s with?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “What do you--oh! Of course! If she’s coming to our forest to have a good time, she’s got to be doing it with a person. Or maybe there are lots of people in her thrall. But no, no one’s ever mentioned anyone but her.”

“Every new moon and every full moon.” Baelfire shook his head. “Why the hell would he do that?”

“Who?”

Baelfire blinked. He hadn’t realized he had said that out loud. “Uh, whatever poor wretch the Dark One sees twice a month.”

“You think it’s been the same person all this time?”

“Yeah,” Baelfire nodded. His head felt heavy as he looked up the path back home. “I do.”

#Dark Mistress #rumbelle #rumbelle fanfic #baelfire

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