#drawing croissants for the rest of my life

[andreacecelia]

"Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now."

A post-canon coffee date in which the moon and the sun work things out over coffee. 🍌🐠

#banana fish #ash lynx #yut lung lee #catcher in the rye #aslan as holden caulfield #procreate #fancomic #friends as background characters #canon divergence #drawing croissants for the rest of my life #coffee date #yue lung lee #yut lung #ash #aslan callenreese #fanart #bananafish #banana fish art #digital art #fan art #shout out to the la colombe in astor place

[seijorhi]

Shelter from the Storm

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

w.c 8k

tw: yandere, blood, murder, nsfw, smut (sorta), oikawa is awful in this, technically everything is consensual but... big yikes.

A gentle breeze blows past, a lock of loose hair fluttering in its wake. Early still, the sky is painted with buttery oranges and pinks, a perfect, picturesque sunrise. Leaning on the railing of the balcony, you gaze to the city below, lost in thought. 

Behind you, the sliding door opens, a warmth enveloping you, strong, sinewy arms curling around your middle. 

“Morning,” Oikawa murmurs, drawing you closer. His bare chest rumbles at your back when he speaks again, “You want some breakfast? Coffee?”

How many times can you make the same mistake – fall into bed with the same person – and still claim it to be a momentary lapse in judgement? Maybe you’ll set a new record. 

“Oikawa…”

Lips press against the back of your head, strangely affectionate. For all your little indiscretions, the time you’ve spent together, this sort of affection – the casual touching, the… intimacy of it all, feels out of place in broad daylight. “Mm? We could go and get one of those croissants from you like from the place across the road? Or get something delivered if you’d rather stay in?”

“Oikawa,” you sigh again, more insistent this time. You spin in his arms, turning to face him. Hair still mussed from sleep, shirtless, smiling down at you – unfairly handsome in the morning light. 

“What? Not hungry?” he asks, a faint amusement lacing his tone.

Your hands find their way to his chest, your pinky grazing the raised, puckered outline of one of his scars. While curiosity might eat away at you, you’ve never quite mustered the courage to ask him about them.

You’ve heard enough of the rumours that swirl around Oikawa; they won’t be pretty stories. 

“We can’t keep doing this. You have to stop.”

He laughs, surprise flitting across his face, “Me? If I remember correctly, you were more than eager to get those lovely hands of yours on me last night.”

“That’s not–” you break off with a flustered huff, cheeks warming. “That’s not what I meant, stop twisting my words! You work for my father, I can’t keep– we can’t keep doing this.”

A little of the mirth in his expression fades at that, “You don’t think I can handle keeping you safe while we’re sleeping together, ‘s that it?”

“He’s paying you to keep me safe. I’m a job, Oikawa, that’s it. That’s all.” You bite back a sigh, shifting to put some distance between you two – as much as his grip will allow. “This is a bad idea, you know it as well as I do. In a few weeks, or months–”

“So?” he asks, cutting you off. “He can’t say I’m not doing an excellent job, keeping such a careful, close eye on his beloved daughter,” the hands the rest on your waist slide down to your ass, squeezing it appreciatively as he closes the gap between you once more. The grin he wears is nothing short of devilish – not to mention incredibly self satisfied – his mouth a hairsbreadth from your own. He continues, “I’m keeping you safe, satisfied and very, very happy. If anything, I should be getting paid extra for that.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’s how he’ll see it.”

Oikawa leans forward, kisses the tip of your nose, and then your lips. 

“I’d kill for you, how many other guys can say that, hm?” When the joke fails to garner a response, he sighs. “We’re not breaking any rules, and I’m not going anywhere. Stop overthinking it.”

—

In the days following the first threats made against your father, the idea of having a bodyguard shadowing your every step seemed laughable. Ridiculous. You weren’t some darling, young starlet with creepy, obsessive fans. Not a witness set to testify in some groundbreaking criminal case.

No, you’re simply collateral, caught up in a mess of your father’s making, one that has nothing to do with you. 

That you love him in spite of it is an immutable fact. You’ve tried hard – so, so hard – to distance yourself. To separate the life you’re trying to lead and the good you’re trying to do from the shadowy reach of his legacy. 

In any case, you felt perfectly comfortable brushing aside his offer of protection. You neither wanted nor needed someone monitoring your every move under the guise of keeping you safe. 

And then the focus of the threats turned to you. To your step-mother. To Ryo, your little brother – a kid. 

Your father, a man unaccustomed to hearing the word ‘no’, introduced Oikawa the very next morning and would not budge on the issue. ‘You do not have to like him,’ he’d said. ‘But he’ll keep you out of harm’s way, and you will listen to him.’

It was – is – an adjustment. 

Those closest to you, your friends, your work colleagues – the ones you interact with on a daily basis at any rate – have all been made aware of the truth behind his presence. For everyone else–

“Don’t mind him, Oikawa’s my new assistant,” you explain to the hotel’s manager, smiling sweetly at her bemused expression.

Oikawa matches it with one of his own, saccharine and glittering. 

A cup of tea is set out before each of you by one of the hotel’s employees, and he thanks her quietly, swirling the cup round in its saucer to better reach the bone china handle. Lifting it to his lips, he takes a smooth, slow sip. 

“I’m really just here for the free tea and cake.”

One look at the blushing manager, and you can tell she’s thoroughly charmed – which is the only reason you abstain from kicking him under the table. 

“Ignore him, please. I had a thought about letting some of the kids come up and talk on stage as part of the opening speeches, but I wanted to make sure that wouldn’t push us too far behind with the entertainment.” There’s a slight nudge at your thigh, “And um, we also wanted to run through the security measures, if possible.”

Her brow wrinkles, “Security, I– well, we’ll have doormen to check the guest list, and I suppose we could have some of our security staff posted near the ballroom exits if you’d like?”

You nod, “Yes, that’ll be–”

“You should have a few dressed to blend in with the crowd, mingling throughout the room, regular security at the stairs, and we’d like some guards working the backstage area as well,” Oikawa interjects. “Considering the guest list, not to mention the A-list performers we’ve hired for the night, the least they can ask of us is to ensure we’re making their safety and security a priority, no?”

“All these extra measures are a little last minute, don’t you think? The gala’s tomorrow night!” 

On the brink of exasperation, she looks to you, no doubt expecting you to rein in your employee. 

You simply smile, folding your legs over one another, taking a moment to indulge in the tea you’d been so graciously provided. “We chose this hotel as our venue for a reason, I’ve heard nothing but excellent things about you and your staff. A few added security measures shouldn’t be too difficult for your staff to accommodate. As my assistant said,” your eyes slide to Oikawa’s, a faint hint of a warning there, “we simply want to ensure everyone has a safe, enjoyable evening so that the foundation can raise as much as we possibly can.”

“… Of course,” she concedes.

“Perfect! So, let’s get back to the opening speeches.”

And so it goes, the two of you discussing the final touches and small details for the event you’ve spent months bringing to fruition, the foundation’s first charity gala. 

Untouched by your father’s hand, you built this foundation from the ground up, it’s yours – your baby. Your pride and joy. 

You think nothing of it when Oikawa excuses himself to take a call. He doesn’t leave the room – he won’t risk straying that far – and you’re distantly aware of the quiet tones of his voice speaking into his phone. You pay it no mind, focused on closing out your meeting with all the i’s dotted and the t’s crossed. 

By the time the meeting’s finished, you’re thrilled. 

Naturally, there’s still plenty you have left to do; one last check in with the caterers, you have to go and pick up your dress, and there’s the debrief with your team. You’ll have to come back to the hotel early tomorrow to make sure that the set up runs smoothly and nothing’s slipped through the cracks. 

Regardless, promising that you’ll touch base first thing in the morning and thanking her again, you can’t quite tamp down your excitement, or the giddy little grin you wear, exiting the hotel with Oikawa. 

At least, until he stops you just shy of the town car waiting out front, his hand on your arm, murmuring your name. 

“What, what is it?”

He appears almost hesitant. Regretful, certainly. “There was another threat delivered to the main house today…”

Your stomach sinks. 

You can see it written across his face, know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth, “Don’t, don’t you dare–”

“There’s too many variables, I am not putting you on the stage in a dark, crowded room–”

You throw your hands up in a huff. “Fine! I won’t speak then.”

“You’re not going at all. Shizuku can do your speech, the team has everything else handled. I am not risking your safety, point blank.”

“That’s not your decision!”

Oikawa’s eyes narrow, “It is. You can be pissed at me all you want–”

“We’ve been working on this for months! Oikawa, this is the most important night of our entire year – we need this funding. The kids need this funding! You can go as my date, you’ll have every excuse to spend the entire night glued to my hip. We just got them to agree to all that extra security stuff you wanted, what more do you need? Don’t ask me to sit at home because of some baseless, stupid threat, please!”

You hate that your voice sounds so desperate, so pleading – but it’s frustration, not disappointment that’s to blame for the thick lump that chokes you up. The hot tears that sting in the corner of your eyes. 

“I’m not asking.” 

The callousness hits you like a slap in the face.

All that anger, that mounting, seething frustration, it cools in an instant, settling like a rock in your stomach. Without another word you turn and climb into the backseat, slamming the car door behind you.

If that’s how it is, fine. 

Oikawa joins you a moment later, rattling off instructions to the driver. 

The two of you have argued before, more times than you care to count. As charming as he thinks he is, Oikawa’s equally capable of being obnoxious, annoying, rude, arrogant, the list goes on. This is the first time it’s truly mattered, though. Maybe that’s why the cold dismissal – his refusal to give so much as an inch – stings more than it should.

“Don’t make me the bad guy here,” he murmurs when the silence between you grows too heavy to bear. “I won’t apologise for putting your safety first.”

He reaches for your hand then; a peace offering, an olive branch. You yank it back before his pinky can so much as brush against yours, lacing them together over your lap.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. That’s what you’re being paid for, right?”

—

Days later and the elephant in the room remains firmly lodged between you two. 

It’s hard to justify anger towards someone who claims they’re only making your life difficult because there are people out there actively trying to hurt you and your family. At the same time, Oikawa’s insistence on smothering you under new ‘security measures’ isn’t doing him any favours.

Driving home from work, the twinkling lights of the city speeding past in a blur, the purring hum of the engine a comfort in the otherwise silent car, you can only wonder how much longer this’ll go on for.

How much more of it you can take.

“I have a date tomorrow night,” you admit in a quiet voice. “A friend of a friend, she’s been trying to set us up together for months now.” 

You glance at Oikawa then – hesitant, searching his face. Momentary surprise flickers there, and then he simply raises an eyebrow, “Oh? And you’re telling me this because you want me to give the two of you a little privacy, right? I guess it would be slightly awkward to have the last guy you were fucking watching from the next table over.”

Though his tone is perfectly pleasant, there’s no disguising the razor sharp bite of the words themselves. Guilt stabs at your insides, twisting like a knife. “That’s not what I–” 

You’re so tired of arguing with him. Tired of all of this. Your hands can’t lie still, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in your skirt, and though your attention falls to your lap, you can’t escape the weight of Oikawa’s watchful eyes, following your every move. 

Waiting on the verge of impatience for you to dig yourself deeper. 

You sigh, wetting your lips. “I’m not interested in him. This isn’t about that. I just… I can’t do this with you, Oikawa. I can’t handle every detail of my day – what I do and who I see – being monitored and micromanaged. I can’t handle you acting like a glorified babysitter and then still trying to get into my pants the moment we’re alone. I just– I need one night without that, that’s all.”

Maybe that’s a selfish thing, a stupid decision. You’d made it at the drop of a hat, your friend gushing over this guy over the phone for the umpteenth time. He doesn’t seem like the type to have a favourite gun, and that was good enough for you. 

Oikawa snorts out a laugh, “If you’ve got an itch you need scratched, I’m more than happy to offer my services, pretty girl,” he drawls, low and lecherous, grinning so condescendingly you’re honestly tempted to slap him. “But there’s no way in hell I’m letting you run off to play date night with some asshole you know next to nothing about when there’s a target on your back and I’m the one keeping you safe, understand?”

You’d anticipated some kind of resistance – Oikawa arguing over where you’d go, wanting the names of the guy in question, the friend who set the two of you up, all of it.

The possibility he’d outright refuse hadn’t even crossed your mind. 

You open your mouth to argue the point, only to close it softly a heartbeat later. Why bother? What good would arguing do when you’re perfectly aware that he has no intention of budging on the subject.

Which isn’t to say that you’re letting him off the hook entirely.

 “Careful, you’re sounding awfully jealous there, Tooru.”

His eyes widen a fraction, but it’s delight, not aggravation, that gleams in those deep, brown depths. “Do you want me to deny it?” he challenges, the car pulling to a stop out the front of your apartment block. “You wanna know what I think?”

Not particularly, but that’s never stopped him before.

“You want me just as much as I want you, you know we’re good together. You accuse me of being jealous, yet you’re the one running scared, jumping at the first, half-baked opportunity presented so you can lie and tell yourself that you’re not missing me.”

“Please,” you scoff, unable to help yourself. “You’d have to be gone for me to miss you.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Rolling your eyes and biting back a huff, you nevertheless accept the hand he offers to help you out of the car, the two of you making your way inside. He greets the porter by the door, inclining his chin in a short nod, and calls the elevator with a swipe of your keycard – the one he’d snatched right out of your hand the very day he’d met you.

All in the name of doing his job and keeping you safe, of course. 

‘Well what if I need to use the stupid lift and you’re not around?’

‘Unless you’re planning on ditching me, I don’t see that being a problem, do you?’

Impossible, right from the start. 

While Oikawa leans against the mirrored walls, smug and all too self satisfied, you snatch your phone from your purse, angrily typing up a quick message to your friend about tomorrow night. No doubt she’ll think you’re being overdramatic, if not outright lying – she, however, doesn’t have to contend with Oikawa on a daily basis.

By the time you reach your apartment, you’re tired, grumpy and itching for a glass of wine and a nice long soak in the bathtub. 

You’re only half paying attention, impatient to kick off your heels and soothe the day's stresses – you don’t notice that the door’s hanging ajar, at least not immediately. Oikawa does, his whole body tensing, eyes alert and cautious. 

The second you try to move, his arm’s there, outstretched to keep you at bay while he hastily tries to shut the door and obscure your view.

Not quickly enough.

Through the crack, you see it; the crimson splashed across your living room, stark and hideous against the white tile floors. 

Blood. 

It’s everywhere. Dripping from the lampshade, down the walls, pooling on the tiles.

Red, red, red, spattered and sprayed like the set of a b-grade slasher flick. And the smell, coppery and pungent, sitting in the back of your throat as bile creeps up to meet it. 

No one person can bleed that much, can they? 

Your breath comes quick; short, heaving little gasps far too shallow to do you any good. Your limbs feel weightless, weak – a stumbling step backwards almost sends you to the ground. Nausea churns in your guts, threatening to upheave. 

All that blood… Your apartment–

They– they were in your home. 

And a sudden thought occurs to you, a fresh wave of horror sinking its claws in deep. Without stopping to think, you lurch forward, desperate to get inside. Arms seize your waist, yanking you back, and you let out a blood curdling shriek, thrashing against the grip.

In the haze of your blind panic, you recognise that it’s Oikawa’s voice, speaking in your ear in a low, urgent tone. You don’t care, you can’t make sense of the words anyway, not amidst the overwhelming fear, the terror and the pounding of your racing heart. 

“Ryo–” you choke out, struggling to get free, “I have to– h-he might be–”

“He’s not in there. He’s not in there!” Wrangled back from the door, he all but shoves you against the wall, caging you in close as your fists beat weakly against his chest, your pleas little more than whimpers. He exhales heavily, moving in closer to press his forehead against yours. “He’s at home, with your father. They’re not in there, I promise. We have to go.”

He takes your hand, leads you one step after another, murmuring reassurances the whole way. 

You’re numb to it. 

You don’t remember much, the ding of the elevator, stale air of the underground parking garage and a chill nipping at your skin. An unfamiliar car you’re hastily bundled into. 

Time moves strangely after that, seconds trickling by like the drip of a leaking faucet. 

The car is quiet. Dark. The cityscape out the window a blur that barely registers. Your mind ticks over the same thoughts, a reel stuck playing the same loop over and over; blood splashed across the curtains, the couch. Your apartment – your home – awash with it. The stench of it, clinging to you like perfume. 

No one was hurt.

They were in your home.

You’re fine, Oikawa’s fine. Ryo was never in danger.

They were in your home. 

You let out a shuddering breath, shoulders curling inwards as you draw your knees up to your chest. Oikawa clocks the movement, sparing you an assessing glance from the corner of his eye. 

 “… Where–” you wince at the raw sound. “Where are we going?”

“Back to the main house. Your father’s been alerted, he’s expecting us.”

Ah. Where else?

Your father has ‘round the clock guards at every entrance, high tech, expensive security systems. You’d be with your family, safe and protected within the walls of the home you grew up in. The minute he’d heard what’d happened, your father would’ve demanded Oikawa bring you back without delay. 

Despite that, you find yourself shaking your head, “I… I don’t want Ryo– he’ll get upset if he sees me like this,” you mumble into your knees. “He’s already scared. Please.”

He looks at you again, properly this time. There’s a muscle working in his jaw, long fingers drumming against the leather of the steering wheel. 

You’ve seen him angry before, irritated. Never like this.

Every breath he draws in is tight and controlled, his features set like granite. You only catch sight of it when the yellow glow of the street lights outside wash over you both in thick swathes; the cold fury that lurks in the black pits of his irises, held back like a caged beast. 

It should scare you – it does, a bit. The man sitting next to you feels like a stranger, and yet you force yourself to hold that stare, not to shy away.

Oikawa won’t hurt you. 

Whatever seethes beneath the surface, it’s not directed your way – you can’t say how you know that for certain, only that you do. 

But neither one of you can return home to your family tonight, not when you’re both so wound up and strung out. You’ll beg on your hands and knees if that’s what it takes to sway him. Ryo’s already afraid enough as it is.

Your heart thumps painfully against your ribs as you wait in tense silence. 

Oikawa considers you for a moment longer, mutters a curse under his breath and casts a look back over his shoulder, throwing the car into a sudden – and very illegal – u turn. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I hope you realise that,” he groans, but the words lack the hard, clipped edge they’d carried before. 

He takes you instead to an apartment downtown; nondescript, small, tidy. The furniture appears new, fitting in with the same clean, monochromatic colour scheme as the rest of the apartment. There’s books on the coffee table, bland art lining the walls, cushions on the couch, a knitted beige comforter tossed over the armrest. It’s… fine, if not a little soulless. 

Turning to face Oikawa, you lift an eyebrow, “You… live here?” you ask.

The brunet’s lips quirk upwards, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over the back of one of the chairs. “Not often. It’s a foxhole, one of a few I have, actually. This one just so happened to be the closest.” At your confused expression, he continues, “Think of it like a hideaway. There’s no paper trail tying me to this place and very few people who know of its existence. We can lie low here for a few days while we figure everything out.”

Somewhere that can’t be tracked, because there are men out there who want you dead. Faintly, you nod, trying your best to ignore the pool of dread sitting heavy in your gut. 

There’s no pretending the threats aren’t real anymore. 

But you’re safe here, with Oikawa. No one’s coming to hurt you tonight. 

Exhausted, your whole body aching, you shower under a scorching spray, drying yourself off and pulling on one of Oikawa’s old shirts to sleep in (‘We’ll get you some proper clothes tomorrow,’ he’d promised). There’s only one bed in the tiny apartment, and even if you could find it within yourself to care, you’re altogether too drained to say anything when, after a quick shower of his own, Oikawa crawls in beside you. 

He’s warm and solid, the scent of him familiar as his arm slides over your middle, drawing you close. 

“I’m not going to let anyone touch you,” he murmurs into the dark. “I’ll kill them first. You’re safe with me.”

—

Two days later, your father summons you home.

Oikawa’s curtly dismissed at the door, left to his own devices. You, meanwhile, are taken into the study, tea is poured, and the conversation, naturally, shifts towards the break in at your apartment. 

“You can always stay here with us, little one, for as long as you’d like. Ryota would be thrilled to have you back.” Your father smiles, setting the steaming cup down. “As would I.”

The childhood endearment makes your heart tug. You’ve spent too long clawing your way free of his influence to do some good in the world, to return home now, no matter how tempting the thought, would undo that in seconds. 

“I know,” you reply. “And I appreciate it, dad. Oikawa’s taking me tomorrow to see a few apartments, though, so hopefully we’ll find something that works.”

He makes a dissatisfied noise, mouth tightening. “Yes, well considering this happened under Oikawa’s watch, perhaps you should rethink the weight you place in his judgement.”

“It’s because of Oikawa that they broke into my apartment. He never gave them an opening to come after me directly, so they tried to scare me instead.” Tried, and succeeded, mind you. “You’re the one who hired him,” you grumble.

“I hired him to protect you, nothing more,” he replies sternly. “If you’re put at risk again I will not hesitate to replace him with someone better suited.”

Peering down at you from behind wire frame glasses, he considers you for a moment – the same weighty, assessing stare he’d give you when, as a kid, he thought you were misbehaving. “I am not so blind that I cannot see what is happening in front of my own eyes. You’re close with him, you… trust him.”

“Am I not supposed to?” Wasn’t he the one telling you you had to listen to Oikawa?

He doesn’t answer you straight away, seemingly weighing up his response. When he does eventually speak, the words give little comfort. “Oikawa is… a necessary evil. He has the temperament and skill set which make him a natural choice in protecting you – they’re also what make him dangerous. If your life weren’t at risk I would not want you within a thousand yards of that man.”

You think back to the scars that litter Oikawa’s torso. The look in his eyes that night, the tempest raging, violent and volatile. 

It’s not as though you ever believed Oikawa to be a saint – if his association with your father wasn’t proof enough, the frankly alarming number of weapons you’d stumbled across, stashed throughout the foxhole certainly did the trick.

You grew up surrounded by men like that. Your father, your uncles. Business associates invited to dinner. None of them ever frightened you.

Unease slithers down your spine.

Satisfied, perhaps, that his warning struck home, your father straightens in his chair and clears his throat. “Enough of that. Come, drink – your tea’s getting cold.”

He keeps you there for a little while longer, to indulge in another cup and talk of other, lighter subjects; your work with the children’s foundation, Ryo’s progress at school (he’s becoming quite the little scientist), to the gardens that surround the estate, the cherry blossom trees set to bloom in a matter of weeks. 

On your way out, he asks for you to send in Oikawa. 

It takes you less than a minute to find him – sitting cross legged on the living room floor, deep in conversation with your seven year old brother. Ryo’s the one to spot you first, his whole face lighting up. Discarding the open book he’d had splayed across his lap, your brother jumps to his feet and barrels towards you with a delighted shriek of your name, arms outstretched. You catch him with a grin, squeezing back when he hugs you firmly.

“Careful, bud” Oikawa laughs, “you’ll knock her right off her feet.”

You ruffle Ryo’s hair. His mom would say the unruly locks are desperately in need of a trim – you think it suits him, reminds you of a wild thing. “Please, this little guy? Light as a feather.”

The indignant grumble you get in response, his face still buried in your middle only makes your grin widen. 

Still sprawled across the floor like a kid himself, Oikawa meets your gaze with a warm one of his own, something in your chest fluttering at the sight of it. He looks content, perfectly relaxed here with you and Ryo. 

In that moment, you’re struck with the realisation that he’s not the only one.

Whatever gripped you back in your father’s study, there’s no trace of it now, it holds no bearing here with the two of them. This is the Oikawa you’ve come to know, the one you trust.

The one you like, if the warming of your cheeks is any indication to go by. 

… Maybe it’s time you stopped running from that.

Saved from any further musing by your brother’s attempt to crush the life out of you in one final squeeze, Ryo reluctantly lets you go. 

“I missed you,” he mumbles, his cheeks turning pink. He kicks at the carpet a little, chews at his bottom lip, hesitating just a touch. “… Dad said you’re coming home to stay this time. Are you?” And beneath the wide, puppy dog eyes that tug at your heartstrings with practiced ease (no wonder he has both his parents wrapped around his finger), there’s no hiding the hope glimmering in his tone. 

“I missed you too, squirt.” 

At the mention of your father, however, something else springs to mind, and you turn your attention back to Oikawa. “Oh, almost forgot – he said he wants to see you. He’s in the study, waiting.”

The brunet nods, rising. If he’s bothered by the demand at all, there’s no outward indication. From your own conversation with the man, you can’t imagine he’s about to walk into anything particularly pleasant. Then again, you doubt that whatever your father has in store for him – whether it be lecture or complete verbal evisceration – is in any way anxiety inducing to someone like Oikawa. 

Sauntering past the two of you, he stops for a second, lays a hand on Ryo’s shoulder and leans down to whisper conspiratorially into his ear – just loud enough for his voice to carry. “Why don’t you show your big sister the new project you were telling me about, hm?” 

Ryo lights up again with a giddy gasp, racing from the room, and Oikawa winks at you, breezing on through. 

—

The moment you’re through the door back at the foxhole, he’s on you.

Ravenous, hungry, lips moving feverishly against yours, prying them apart for another taste of you. The clothes he’d bought for you are hastily discarded, thrown to the floor and kicked aside as Oikawa lifts you up, hiking your legs around his waist so he can carry you into the bedroom.

“What’s gotten into you?” you laugh, half breathless when he deposits you on the bed. 

“Do I need a reason?” he retorts, yanking off his shirt and casting it aside. “I’ve been waiting to do this all afternoon.”

He climbs onto the bed then,pushing your shoulders back down the mattress as his lips find yours to kiss you senseless. Your hand meanwhile slips down between your bodies, a feather light touch grazing the bulge in his jeans. 

He moans into your mouth, breath shivery and light, hips bucking ever so slightly to chase the touch. When he draws back, your stomach flips in anticipation at the positively wolfish expression you find there, “Careful, pretty girl,” he warns. 

“Or what?” 

He takes your hand then, pulls it back to his crotch and grinds into it slowly, shuddering, “Or you’re gonna be in for a long, long night.”

You arch up to kiss him, lips finding his throat, the two of you working together to hastily free his cock from the confines of his boxer briefs. 

The moment you’re successful, the hard, flushed length bobbing against his stomach, Oikawa lets a fat glob of spit fall into his palm and takes hold of it, twisting his wrist as he slides his hand back and forth along his cock, groaning and nudging your thighs apart. 

Usually, he likes to take his time prepping you, lowering his mouth to your pretty little pussy, teasing you and edging you until you’re a squirming, hot mess beneath him, all but begging him to hurry up and fuck you. Other times – when he’s in a more selfish mood – he’ll send you to your knees instead, taking his pleasure by fucking your face, fingers curling in your hair, the tight, wet warmth of your mouth too tempting to pass up.

But something feels different this time. More than hunger, or desire, beyond simple urgency. It glints and gleans in his eyes, seeps from his skin like the bead of sweat that trickles down the curve of his neck. 

It crackles like electricity in the air between you. 

And when he drags your hips down close, and pushes his cock deep into your warm, fluttering cunt, it robs you of all words.

True to his promise, Oikawa takes his time. Fucks you on your back, legs locked around his back at first – and then pressed back either side of you, the ache in your thighs second only to the stretch of your pussy, clenching around him with every languid roll of his hips.

He flips you over and draws your ass upwards, your face pressed down into the pillows, pounding into you from behind. 

Hands on your hips, guiding you up and down his throbbing shaft, hungry eyes fixed on the way your tits bounce so enticingly for him. 

And then, when your legs are shaking, pussy leaking his seed and every cell in your body is electrified and buzzing, he lays you down at the edge of the bed and feasts on your poor, sensitive, abused little hole ‘til you’re grabbing at his hair, bucking up and writhing on his tongue, screaming yourself hoarse from an overload of pleasure. 

Only then does he allow you rest, kissing you sweetly as he slips from your side and exits the bedroom. 

He returns moments later with a glass of water, which you gratefully accept and guzzle down. Collapsing back on the bed, you let out a groan, “I feel like I could sleep for the next thousand years.”

He chuckles. Climbing onto the mattress to flop down beside you, Oikawa rolls close, smiling with a soft look you’ve only ever seen directed at you. “So sleep. We’ve got an hour or so ‘til dinner, a nap won’t kill you.”

—

You wake to the sound of a car backfiring.

Eyes bleary, disoriented, you struggle to gather your wits as the door to the bedroom flies open. Oikawa appears in the doorway, still wearing his pajamas, gun in hand, eyes focused and alert – and it’s then, in the dim, early morning light that you realise that the sound you heard wasn’t a car at all.

With his handgun and attention trained on the front door, Oikawa spares you only the briefest of glances, “Get up, we need to go. Now.” 

Your heart skips a beat, chest tightening as the reality of the situation – at least, as much as your sluggish brain can piece together – dawns upon you. 

Questions, one after another, claw their way up your throat, desperate and urgent, terrified, you force yourself to swallow them down, along with the near paralysing fear that takes hold. There’s no time for that. No time to panic. Pausing only long enough to ascertain that you are in fact somewhat clothed – an old tee of his and a pair of sleep shorts you must’ve thrown on at some point last night – you scramble to Oikawa’s side. 

Any reassurance you feel at the grip he takes of your hand is quickly and overwhelmingly buried, however, when you catch sight of the dark mass by the entryway. 

Your stomach lurches, blood running cold. It’s a body – a man’s. The room’s not yet light enough to get a good look at his face, but the open, unblinking eyes and the sticky looking pool beneath him tell you plenty.

Dead. 

“Don’t look,” Oikawa murmurs.

His fingers tighten around your hand in a reassuring squeeze, already pulling you onwards. Like a bad accident, tearing your eyes away is easier said than done.

That man, he… he’d come here for you, hadn’t he? To kill you. 

You’ve never seen a dead body before, and now there’s one lying across your living room floor, riddled with bullets from Oikawa’s gun and that–

That could’ve been you. Would’ve been, if not for Oikawa.

Your chest constricts, a noose tightening at your throat. And just like that night at your apartment, the fear that takes root begins to strangle you, making it hard to breathe, harder to think.

Every uneven thump of your heart rattles your chest, your limbs feeling like they’re disconnected from the rest of you. Oikawa notices, and curses softly beneath his breath. There’s no time to coax you down, his grip turns iron, half running now down the fire door stairs with you stumbling behind him.

Somewhere above you, shouts begin to sound, and with a fresh wave of terror hammering through your veins, you force your legs to move quicker. There’s no choice but to run, to duck and cower when the creaking door to the floor above swings open and Oikawa abruptly yanks you forward to fire up the stairwell behind you. 

Bare feet pounding against the floor, chest heaving with ragged breaths, you burst out into the parking garage, and still you don’t stop. 

For the second time in less than a week, you’re corralled into a car, shaking and numb, on the verge of outright sobbing.  

Oikawa drives for a long time.

You don’t ask where you’re going, if they’re still following you. You don’t speak. 

The traffic on the streets thins out, the towering skyscrapers disappearing in the rearview mirror. Wherever he’s taking you, it’s not towards home.

And there’s a pit in your stomach, a bleak, festering emotion that grows harder and harder to ignore with every passing mile. Oikawa’s silence – tense and uncomfortable, only adds to your unease. 

This isn’t like last time, when he was angry beyond words. This feels… different, somehow. 

When you’re well beyond the city limits, he pulls the car to a stop on the side of a deserted stretch of road and turns it off, leaving the keys in the ignition. 

“There’s a phone in the glove box, can you get it for me?” 

Doing as he asks, you pop the compartment open, only to cringe when the first thing your fingers brush over isn’t a cell, but the cool metal of a handgun. Nevertheless, you keep going, eventually finding the black phone tucked away near the back and wordlessly passing it into Oikawa’s waiting palm.

He smiles at you, leans over the console to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, “Thanks. Stay here, alright? Gotta make a quick call.” 

He’s already dialling, smoothly exiting the car before the words truly register. 

You’re helpless to do anything but watch anxiously from the passenger’s seat, fingers worrying away at the hem of Oikawa’s shirt. Seconds tick by – nothing. No one picks up. No one answers. 

A small frown graces his features. Glancing into the car to check up on you, Oikawa simply ends the call, dials another number, holds the phone to his ear, and waits for whoever’s on the other end of the call to pick up. 

… But nobody does. The phone rings out.

He spares you another brief glance then, your wide, worried eyes meeting his. His brow furrows, the edges of his lips thinning into a hard line and before you can call out to ask him what’s wrong, who he’s trying to get ahold of, he’s moving away from the car and out of earshot. 

This time, he seems to take longer to find the number he’s after, drawing the phone back to his ear, foot tapping away as it rings and rings and rings. 

You don’t realise that you’re holding your breath, fingernails biting into the palm of your hand until you see him speaking into his cell, nodding at whatever the person on the other end of the line is saying.

Yet that reprieve, unlocking the breath trapped in your lungs, soothing over all of your tension and that awful, gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach lasts only as long as it takes for you to realise that Oikawa, staring at you from yards down the road, looks entirely too grim for the relief that you’re feeling.

He ends the call with a heavy exhale, shoulders slumping.

Your heart stops cold in your chest.  

One look at his pained expression, the pity swirling in his eyes, the sympathy, and your whole world comes crashing down around you.

Fingers fumbling for the door latch, you unbuckle your seatbelt to stagger to your feet, lurching towards him. Oikawa reaches you first, letting you collide into his arms, pulling you close. 

“He– he’s fine, right?” you beg in a thick, trembling voice, trying in vain to blink back hot tears. “Ryo’s fine. They both are. They’re okay. Tell me they’re okay. Please, Tooru, you have to– you have to tell me that they’re–”

As words fail you, Oikawa sighs. With a gentleness that shatters something inside of you, he cups your cheek in his palm, brushing away your tears, and presses his forehead against yours. 

“I’m sorry. They… they hit the house before they came for us. No one made it out.”

No… no, no, no, no, no. That’s not true. You clutch at him, desperately shaking your head. Ryo can’t be dead, he’s only seven. He’s just a kid, an innocent, good kid. He’s your little brother.

He can’t be dead.

But Oikawa’s looking at you so brokenly, and you feel like somebody’s ripped you open from the inside out and saved your heart for last of all. You open your mouth to beg for him to tell you he’s lying, but all that comes out is a sobbing wail. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, holding you close, cradling you against him. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

—

The soft sound of leather shoes walking atop marble tiles echo throughout the empty halls of your father’s estate. 

There’s no need for Oikawa to disguise his presence now – not that there was much of one to begin with. 

The staff had opened the door without blinking, welcoming him inside, the guards on rotation nodding in acknowledgment when he strode past. They might not particularly enjoy his presence (no accounting for taste, he supposed) but after months working for the patriarch to keep you safe, they’d come to begrudgingly accept it. 

In their eyes, he was one of them, and so no one thought to stop him and ask why he’d shown up at the estate so late in the night, seemingly without reason. Without you.

It made picking them off one by one that much easier. 

Well, not all of them. He had left one alive – unconscious, possibly paralysed, but breathing all the same. Oikawa smirks. 

With the guards and household staff dispatched, he’d turned his attention towards the bedrooms. 

Ryota was first. Fast asleep, clutching the teddy-bear you’d bought him, your baby brother hadn’t stirred when Oikawa crept in with the shadows. He made it quick. Painless. As much of a mercy as a man like him was capable of. 

The kid’s mom was next; the second wife, the replacement. The money hungry, greedy, vapid little cunt. 

It was no secret that your father had been married before, that his first wife – your mother – had died after a long, tragic battle with cancer when you were sixteen. The first time he’d tried bringing it up, you’d shut him down and quickly changed the subject, but in the end, all it took was one too many glasses of wine, a few stories of his own, and those pretty lips of yours were spilling all sorts of interesting secrets.

That your step-mother was fucking him before she was even cold in the ground was one such fascinating tidbit. 

While he’d felt a slight twinge of guilt over killing the boy, Oikawa had no such qualms shooting her while she slept, the silencer on his pistol ensuring it raised no alarm, just like the others. 

While you’d mourn for your beloved baby brother, he knows you won’t shed any tears for that bitch. He wonders if you’d even thank him for it, if he ever decided to tell you the truth.

A pleasant shiver rolls down his spine at the thought of how sweetly you’d go about it.

Presently, he raises a fist to knock at the door of your father’s study, one final goal in mind.

“Come in,” a deep voice replies.

Oikawa has to give the older man some credit, one look at him – gun in hand, the flecks of blood spattered against his crisp, white shirt – and your father stills, the colour draining from his face. He doesn’t panic, though, doesn’t shout or cry out for help, much less for mercy.

They both know none is coming. 

Instead, he sets down the papers he’d been working on and rises slowly from his chair. No doubt he has at least one gun stashed nearby, but with Oikawa’s pointed towards his chest, the brunet’s index finger poised on the trigger, and his better years behind him, the odds don’t fall in his favour.

“My wife?”

Oikawa grins, clicking his tongue, “Dead.”

He nods, taking a moment to process the information. “And… my son?” 

“Dead.”

“… I see.”

Oikawa’s heard more than one person accuse your father of being a cold, heartless bastard. It’s an easy assumption to make – no one gains a reputation like his without a certain brutality and overall disregard for the lives of others. The truth is simpler; your father does have a heart, it resides in both of his children. While his voice might not shake at the news of his son’s demise, his hands, splayed out over the papers on his desk, most certainly do.

He swallows with difficulty, takes in a trembling breath, “My daughter, I assume you killed her, too?”

“God, no,” he laughs. “She’s sleeping, safe and sound, blissfully oblivious to all of this.” 

And for the first time since Oikawa crossed the threshold, a look of confusion adorns your father’s face. Before he can give voice to it, however, the brunet decides to nudge the conversation along. The drugs in your system will only keep you down for so long, and there’s still plenty he has left to do before the two of you can have your fresh start. 

“You seem to be under the impression that I’m working for the people who want you and your family wiped from the map. I’m not. I’m simply making the best of an opportunity." He sighs, shrugging, “We could have avoided this nastiness, you know. Maybe not indefinitely, but for a little while at least. All of this, it’s your fault; you gave me a gift, and then,” his smile turns sharp, an edge of anger bleeding through, “you threatened to take her away.”

There are worse fates than death. 

“If it gives you any solace,” Oikawa murmurs, the soft, placating tone at odds with the cruel twist of his vicious grin. “I intend to keep my promise. She’ll be safe with me, no one will ever lay so much as a finger on her.”

No one, that is, except for him. 

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #yandere oikawa #idk if i hate this or not but hey at least it's done #:))))

[mazeinthemiroh]

So I'm currently stuck in the airport due to weather delays (and have been for the last two hours L.O.L. 🙃). How would the members of Stray Kids handle this situation/help pass the time?

stray kids waiting for their plane

genre: general

warnings: not proofread

a/n: sorry ✈️ anon this should've been done first out of all your requests but hey-ho, here ya go

bangchan

you can't tell me this man is going to do anything other than sleep

like.... oh my plane has been delayed? okay then, wake me up in 3 hours ig...

that's so him

he's got his travel pillow wrapped around his neck already so he can pretty much fall asleep at any given point if he feels like it

so who's gonna stop him?? cos i ain't???

minho

he will go on a little walk around the airport

grabs a good ol' starbucks frappuccino and goes about his business, gazing around the shops for nothing in particular

might get some cute little gifts for his friends or his cats while he's at it

but overall he's just walking around like the model he is, probably stealing a few people's hearts in the process

like you can't tell me he won't be your airport crush if you saw him in that setting fr

changbin

gets a meal for himself because he's been waiting so long and he still isn't on the plane yet??

ain't no way he's paying for that overpriced stuff of the plane, nuh-uh

so he gets a takeaway and likely spends the rest of his time on his phone, texting someone and ranting about his delayed flight on the internet

but overall his mind is preoccupied. he keeps checking to see if it's finally time for his departure after waiting so long

hyunjin

might just whip out his sketchbook and start drawing the pretty people he sees when waiting in the seating area

either that or he's hititng th eshops

and it's not like he needs any new stuff, but he ends up buying new clothes and accessories for his trip just because he can

and honestly, i don't blame him. it's a bit of fun!

might also buy a book, for good measure

jisung

another sleeper

he's already done. like he doesn't wanna be there and is frustrated that he has to wait more time for his plane to arrive

so he might have a little snooze if he can

either that or he's popping his headphones on and walking around, seeing if there is anything that could possibly peak his interest while he waits for his plane

felix

plays game son his phone most of the time

i mean

he's got enough games on there to last him the whole day anyway so why not put them to good use!

but if he gets that bordd he might do a lil shopping spree, definitely getting some sort of croissant or other baked good to keep him going

i also see him buying little knick-knacks and gifts for people because my boy loves giving <3

seungmin

he's got a few books packed, so he might grab one and dig into it while he waits for the plane

but if the book isn't grabbing him, he might go for a walk around the airport, earphones in as he window-shops with no intention to buy anything

he is also a keen people-watcher, which is a great habit to have at the airport because there is so many different people from every walks of life. it's safe to say he's going to have fun observing people and lowkey judging them lmao

jeongin

hits all the shops

and the food hall of course

to pass the time, he wants to eat different types of food

1, because he's hungry. 2, because he's bored. but 3, he thinks that if he fills up on food that when he does get on the plane, he if more likely to fall asleep, making his plane ride ultimately more quicker. that's pretty smart tbh

#✈️ anon #stray kids #skz #kpop #skz headcanons #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids headcanons #skz scenarios #skz reactions #chan #bangchan #bang chan #lee minho #lee know #minho #changbin #seo changbin #lee felix #felix #seungmin #kim seungmin #han #han jisung #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #jeongin #yang jeongin

[veryberryjelly]

Hey! Congrats on graduating! I hope the next chapter of your life is filled with peace, happiness and success.

Can I request a 🥐 - chocolate croissant ( send me some info about yourself (and a fandom if you wish ) i'll ship you with a character )

My physical description is; I am tan, 5’4, 130lb, I have dark brown eyes and dark brown hair. I like to wear casual clothes(cargo pants, mom jeans, sweaters, crops etc.) and minimal makeup. My favorite movie is Caroline and I love watching films and listening to music. I am studying psychology and Film in university. (And hopefully graduating this year lol). I am an INFP. I am always there for my friends. I have trust issues so I rarely tell people about the problems I have, and I am kinda closed off about sharing personal stuff. I am sarcastic and like to laugh at most situations. People say I have a calming voice and a rbf so I am kind of a contrast when people first meet me. I am selfless but since I am very insecure, this sometimes makes me question my friendships and relationships as if it is one-sided. Like I said I am very insecure and have low self-esteem but whoever notices says that they are surprised because I act very confident on the outside as a defense mechanism. I am a serious person mostly, not really silly or energetic so I feel like I am very boring. I really value my independence and do not like to be ordered around. I hate physical touch from most people but love it when it comes from people i value. I cant say the L word to anyone (daddy issues:). My love languages are quality time, physical touch and acts of service. It is definitely NOT receiving gifts as materialism is a touchy subject to me. I have a hard time accepting materialistic gifts or help from others as it makes me feel weak. I think thats all I can share. Thank you in advance!

𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

i ship you with...

michelle jones-watson!!!

i think your personalities match up absolutely perfectly.

very calming personality with a bit of a resting bitch face.

i picture the both of you just relaxing in the evenings sitting on either ends of the couch mj with a book and you watching a film

she will 100% draw you while you're doing mundane tasks and show you her drawings after she's done.

michelle would try and show you some of her favourite music and films and i feel like you' have movie nights where you watched one of each of you're favourites 🥰

#🥐 - jelly cafe event #·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 #michelle jones #michelle jones watson #michelle jones x reader #mj imagine #mj x reader #peter x mj #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel #mcu #spiderman no way home #no way home #spiderman #spiderman no way teaser trailer #spiderman nwh #spiderman ffh #spiderman imagine

[the-wwvba]

((IT’S OVER. FINALLY. Hopefully I passed, but right now all I care about is passing out because my brain hurts. I hate you, highschool math. I hate you.))

#TKO (ooc) #((hate school. hate. I just want to draw and drink coffee and become a croissant for the rest of my life))

[crazycookiecrumbles]

NoLa Bites

A/N: My submission for @wint3r-h3art​‘s 1.2k celebration!

Main Masterlist ​

Pairings/Characters: Sam Wilson x Reader (Baker!AU)

Warnings: none

Summary: Baker!AU, A new bakery pops up and you just can’t help yourself.

You stared up at the sign curiously, NoLa Bites. It felt like it appeared overnight, which, technically, the small sign sticking out from the building’s facade and gently swaying in the wind did appear overnight. The actual bakery, however, appeared just a few days prior and seems to be off to a slow start. However, it wasn’t the fault of the bakery. It was in a curious location. A small, but cozy one-story building crushed in between two metallic skyscrapers in NYC. It didn’t belong. It had a small-town charm and feel to in and here it was in the middle of an obnoxiously busy street with blue and white hand-drawn chalk menu standing outside.

Curiosity got the better of you. A new place with hardly a crowd yet, who were you to deny yourself the chance to try something new before it either went down in quality, or got too popular to visit anymore?

When you entered the store, you first spotted the young, muscular, black male standing behind the counter. His left palm was leaning on the counter with his weight on it, grin on his face as he spoke to someone whose figure was retreating to the back towards the kitchen. He smiled to himself and straightened up as he turned to face the front door that jingled with your presence. He smiled, both hands now leaning on the white granite countertops as he greeted you.

“Hey, welcome to NoLa. First time, right?” He asked as you approached the counter, your eyes scanning over the clean glass displays, a white french trim lining the counter. All the while, his eyes were focused on you, staring at you slowly, leisurely from the tip of your toes to the top of your head. “What can I get you started with? Hold on, let me guess, latte?”

You chuckled, “Painfully obvious?”

“You just look like the type of gal to appreciate a good latte.”

“And you happen to make a good latte?”

“Oh, I make a mean latte baby girl. I make a latte so good, so cozy, it’ll put you to sleep.”

Your bottom lip puffed out as you thought about this, “Shouldn’t caffeine keep me awake?”

“Nah,” he shook his head as he spun around and got started on the drink. “It’s so much warmed milk, you’ll feel nice and cozy after. Now, let me get this nice and ready for you, and you look over at the display and see what you want.”

“Sounds good to me,” you trailed off when you realized you didn’t know his name. Quietly, you stepped to the side and started to look at all the pastries. There were a lot of pies, different cakes, a display of cookies, and everything looked so good.  There were croissants that looked absolutely perfect, mini pies and full-size pies, pralines, chocolate cake, and even something called a bananas foster pudding.

“How we coming along there, sugar?” He asked as he set a cup on the counter.

You frowned and walked over to the counter, “I can’t decide.” You looked down just as he was placing the lid for your latte down beside your cup. Glancing at the beverage, you smiled seeing a heart resting on the top of it in foam. Your cheeks burned as you quietly thanked him and took the cup, trying to take a sip of it without totally ruining the art just yet.

“How is it?” He asked.

You beamed, “I’ll admit, you make a great latte, and the heart is beautiful! But I don’t know what to have with it. Any suggestions?”

He hummed, “Depends, you in the mood for some rich, velvety chocolate in your life?”

You glanced over to the man to see him smiling at you, eyes crinkling in the corners, drawing your attention to his bright, deep brown eyes. You huffed a little, surprised your spontaneous trip was turning into a bit of flirting, but you were fine with this. You were warming up to the man, and you could certainly handle a side of flirting with your drink, “Do you mean you or what’s in the display?”

“Oh, honey, I’ve got cake too. Don’t get it twisted, now. I’ve got baker’s arms and a big ol’ cake myself,” he joked while you snorted into your latte and started laughing. His smile was big and bright as he watched you clean yourself up quickly. “Name’s Sam, by the way, Sam Wilson. This is my place.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam, Y/N L/N, and it’s a beautiful place,” you leaned back on your hip and studied him. “So, you really from New Orleans or is that just a gimmick?”

He chuckled and leaned over the counter, “Born in Harlem, raised down in Louisiana, and I made my way back up recently, but I’d love to tell you more over dinner.”

“Hm,” you pondered this as you stared at him while sipping your warm drink. “If your baking’s good, I’ll consider it.”

He beamed, “Let me get you my best, my grandma’s recipe, devil’s food cake. Once you taste that chocolate, you will want this chocolate.”

You groaned as you watched Sam take the cake out of the display and cut you a slice, “Are you always this corny?”

“Nah,” Sam said. “I save that for cornbread, which I only make when I’m making chili. Now, that’s extra special,”

“Are you saying your chocolate cake isn’t special, and everyone gets a taste?” You joked.

“Whoa!” Sam placed the cake on a plate with a fork and slid it across the counter to you. “You can look, but you can’t touch, ma’am, not yet! I’m not that kind of girl. You’ve got to wine and dine me first before you can take a bite, okay?”

You laughed loudly, “Sorry Sam.”

“Yeah, uh-huh, as you should be. Now, you take a bite and give it a taste while I figure out where I’m taking you for dinner,” Sam confidently crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back to watch you take a bite of the cake. He watched as you slowly sniffed the cake, studied it, took a picture, did everything you could to stall having to take a bite to keep him on his toes. He groaned and begged for you to get on with it. When you did, your eyes fluttered closed and your hand went out to grab the countertop, fork dangling between your index and middle finger.  Sam beamed, “I know, right?”

“Fuck.”

He smirked, “So, what kind of food you like?”

You tilted your head to the side as you stared at Sam, sliding a $20 across the counter as you maintained eye contact, “First, for my coffee, the cake, and whatever else that’ll get me. Second,” you mulled it over quickly before taking a pen from the chest of his apron and grabbing a napkin. You scribbled your name and number on it quickly before tucking it back into his apron with his pen, “Surprise me.”

Sam smoothed down the front of his chest with his hand as he licked his lips and looked you over once more, “You sure about that? Who knows. I might take you to a place that serves little deep fried ants with garlic bubbles and pear foam or something.”

“Are you?”

“….No.”

You chuckled, “Then we’re fine. Call me when you’re done with work, Sam.”

“Oh, believe me,” Sam said as he wrapped your order and slid it across the counter to you, “I plan on it.”

#wint3r-h3art #lindas1.2kchallenge #lindas1.2kcelebration #sam wilson x reader #au #baker au #marvel fic #reader fic #reader insert #sam wilson x you #captain america sam wilson

[adonis-koo]

ghostin him

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

‘What did you do?’

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

Pairing: Namjoon/Reader, Taehyung/reader

Word Count: 26k

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get up.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He likes you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

....

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guilt

Guilt

Guilt 

Guilt 

How could you betray Taehyung like this?

You shouldn’t feel this way.

You don’t deserve to.

Taehyung would’ve never done this to you.

How could you do this to him?

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

Unworthy

Unworthy

Unworthy

How dare you ever think about replacing Taehyung. 

“Yoongi said you had a panic attack.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?” He tilted his head in curiosity, “Then...can I ask why you’re here? Or did you just wanna bump into me?” There was something...light -playful- in Namjoon’s voice as he flashed those dimples at you. 

You kept your expression reserved this time making his smile dim a little as you glanced back at the painting, “I just came...for someone who couldn’t…” Your expression casted more gloomy this time as you wrapped your arms around yourself, looking back at Namjoon who seemed somewhat confused at your cryptic words, “I’ve never been a big art person.” You offered a weak smile. 

“Well,” Namjoon hummed, giving you a small smile in return, “I hope that someone was able to enjoy your visit for them.” Your heart clenched as you glanced at his shoes, timberlands that blurred in your vision as you gave a bittersweet smile. 

“Yeah…” You nodded as you glanced up at Namjoon, a frown immediately on his face at your glassy eyes and sad smile as you nodded, “He did.” You hadn’t even said his name and yet sadness had swept through your whole body like an ache you’d never cure. The longing you had for your soulmate who was gone, who you’d never wake up beside, who would never hold your hand again, who’s smile you’d never see as he pointed out all of his favorite paintings. 

But Taehyung would be proud of you, wouldn’t he? Perhaps, if there was an afterlife, he would be an angel that was smiling while looking down upon you. 

“Y/n…” You felt your lurch in your throat, as if it felt physically difficult to speak as Namjoon called your name softly, tufts of warm brown hair falling against his eyebrows as he asked with sincerity, “Do you wanna get lunch together? I know a great artisan cafe nearby.” 

It was silent between you both for what felt like an eternity in nothing but a short second as you glanced back at the painting, and for a brief moment your eyes caught onto a sight of raven shaggy hair and an oversized brown cardigan. It looked all too familiar and your heart fluttered for just a brief moment until he turned around, not the face of your lover, but a stranger who embraced his girlfriend with a laugh. 

Sighing, you turned to face Namjoon as you offered a weak smile, “No thank you, I actually have somewhere I’m supposed to be.” You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer, rather you chose to step aside and brush past him, feeling a melancholy gaze against your back but you refused to turn around. 

Not when your heart ached and you felt so tired. 

Stopping by the quaint little flowershop you had picked out a small bouquet of tiger lilies, his favorite, he used to love decorating the apartment to the brim with them, walking out of the shop you took a shaky breath of the cool air. 

The evening sky was brilliant, Taehyung often remarked it was like God personally painted the sky every evening, always different from the previous day but just as beautiful in it’s own right. Your feet felt heavy on the pavement as you sighed, stopping at the arched gateway, glancing to your right where the sunset was shielded by the silhouettes of willow tree’s that gently swayed in a slow dance with the wind. 

Stepping through you weave your way around the grassy corridors of walkways before you were near the middle of the cemetery, pausing in front of the gravestone where wilted flowers laid and dirt from the lawn mower had sputtered up against. 

Kneeling down you gently wiped off the stone as your fingers gently traced the name of your lover, “I went to the art museum today,” Your eyes were already blurry as you smiled endearingly at Taehyung’s name printed on the stone, setting down the blossom of tiger lilies as you crossed your legs, “To go see that Degas exhibit we had made plans to see last Autumn. Ha…” You let out a short laugh as tears trickled down your face, “Do you remember when we got the catalogue in the mail? You knocked over your mug of coffee and it stained over half the pages,” You tried to keep your voice steady as a sob escaped you, rubbing your eyes as you gave a broken laugh, “You freaked out about it  because it was hard to make out the dates but I told you to calm down and looked up the dates on the website.” 

You wiped your face with your arms as you opened your bag up, grabbing the polaroid as more tears immediately dripped down your cheeks, “Here! Don’t you like it?” You asked as you set down the photo with the flowers, smiling despite the tears that welled in your eyes, “I know it’s your favorite, you wouldn’t stop gushing about it when you first saw the exhibit advertisement.” 

It was quiet for a moment as you lowered your gaze, a whimper escaping you at the expected silence, tears dripping down your chin and splattering onto your hand as you sobbed, “Please come back.” 

Your breath was trembling and desperate as you grabbed the gravestone, pressing your forehead against it as you tried to vividly imagine it was your lovers warm skin as your tears dampened the stone, “Please come back to me Taehyung. Don’t leave me alone. Please.” 

Alone, you cried in the cemetery where your lover would permanently stay asleep.

“Just think about it Noona!” Jungkook whined as he grabbed your arm making you sigh as you turned to face him, “It’s a camping trip! We’ll be in nature, maybe you’ll feel better! I get worried about you sometimes.” 

That wasn’t fair! 

You crossed your arms as you sighed again, looking away from him as you felt guilty, not wanting to worry anyone but, you just needed time to yourself. You didn’t know when it would go away, if ever, but you just wanted to be by yourself. Alone were you could mourn in peace, where your heart could ache and tears could fill your eyes with zero shame. 

Everyday that you spent ever since had become more and more painful. The ache became that much harder to deal, “Jungkook...you know I don’t like camping…” You mumbled as you turned away from him, rearranging some of the tea canisters to look busy. 

“But you love gardening!” Jungkook whined again, fluttering beside you with those sweet doe eyes of his that always seemed to get you. 

“There’ll be a log cabin,” Yoongi added as he appeared from the kitchen, setting down a fresh platter of bakery goods, “So it really isn’t camping, unless you’re gonna be Jungkook and set up a tent anyways.”

Jungkook flailed his hands as he glared at his elder, “What’s the point in calling it a camping trip if we aren’t going to camp?” Always the stubborn and hardheaded person he was, Jungkook insisted on his words as he crossed his arms with that pouty expression of his. 

“Nobody called it a camping trip except you.” Yoongi turned to face him deadpan, Jungkook’s lips parted several times before defeatingly closing them as Yoongi snorted, “Yeah, exactly. Anyways, you should go. Shop is going to be closed anyways since Bang is going out of town to visit his parents. Unless you really wanna sulk in your apartment all week…” He shrugged as you sharply inhaled. 

“I’ll think about it…” Jungkook immediately jumped, wrapping his arms around you as he smushed you against him making you squirm, “Thank you Noona! You’ll camp with me right?” He bounced in excitement as you pushed him away from you. Jungkook always had a lack of boundaries especially when he got excited. 

“No.” You replied promptly as you turned around making him cross his arms with a humph, “Be happy I’m at least considering, you ungrateful brat.” To which Jungkook smiled cheekily. Sighing you leaned against the counter top with a hum. Maybe this would be good for you. You knew if Taehyung was here he’d be thrilled to go, immediately begging you to go with him and even saying he refused to go without you. You could never deprive him of something he loved and enjoyed. 

Maybe...just maybe…

The doors just as always at twelve thirty rang as you all glanced up to see the embodiment of the sun wave and his moon beside him who was always more reserved, “Hey! You guys are going on the trip up to the cabin right?” Hoseok bounced up to the register as he set his hands up on it and leaned forward. 

“Yes and we’re camping!” Jungkook wrapped an arm around your neck, squeezing it causing you to gag as you jammed your elbow into his stomach causing him to grunt before whining. 

“No we are not!” You whipped around as you glared at him, your lips tugging into a pout of your own as you glared at the younger boy who stubbornly crossed his arms once more. 

“Oh you’re going Y/n?” Hoseok clapped his hands in excitement as you glanced at the two men, instinctively lowering your gaze a little when you felt Namjoon’s eyes on you. They seemed sadder than normal. 

Which wasn’t normal at all. Namjoon was- he always smiled, so why didn’t he today when your eyes met his? 

“I might,” You admitted reluctantly, “I need to think it over.” Was he still thinking about your rejection at the art museum? Or your cryptic and weird words? Did he assume you were just a sad freak. A part of you desperately wondered why you didn’t see those sweet dimples today. 

“Well don’t take too long,” Hoseok winked playfully as he grinned brightly, “We’re leaving Friday and we sure could use the company. Right Namjoon?” He elbowed the quiet man a little causing him to jolt before harshly glaring at Hoseok who seemed like a little boy who had a secret he was dying to tell. 

Namjoon glanced back at you as he mustered a weak smile, but you could see in his eyes they weren’t glowing like they were before, “Of course we’d like you to come. But don’t feel pressured.” You nodded as you glanced back at the counter top. Unable to bear his gaze anymore. Trying not to overthink why he seemed so melancholy today. 

Or perhaps he was always like this and your head had just played tricks on you? No...No you could remember Namjoon’s smile as clear as day, it was bright and lovely, his eyes glowed not like the sun- not burning and harsh- but like the moon, soft and almost nostalgic as if he lived every moment of his life with gratitude and peace. 

So what happened? The only thing you could recall was what had previously happened. But surely he wasn’t upset about that? After all, he shouldn’t want to deal with a heartbroken girl who only knew how to cry. 

Unless....No…”Well I better go get more chocolate bombs for the holder.” You mumbled as you turned around, pushing the door to the back open as you shoved your thoughts to the back of your head. You wouldn’t let your mind go there.

----

You couldn’t help but feel like this was a mistake, no matter how crisp and fresh the air was, the lake view was gorgeous and reflection off the water made it look like diamonds trickled against its surface. The car ride was over four hours and you were grateful to be on your feet with all the greenery. 

You were definitely tired, not used to being around people so long outside of work after the past year. Feeling semi lethargic you let out a yawn as you rubbed your eyes, “Aren’t you excited Noona?” Jungkook curled his fists, his nose scrunched up like a bunny as he grinned like a child, “I told you it would be pretty here!”

You were tired, definitely, but you mustered a smile, a small one as you replied, “Yeah...it is.” You glanced back out over the lake before fixing your bag over your shoulder. Like Jungkook said, this would be good for you...hopefully...The cabin was fairly big and everyone, even you helped pitched in the rent for it for the next two days. Jimin was excited for you, telling you to try and enjoy yourself and if all else failed he’d come and pick you up. 

You would certainly try your best to not let that happen though, of course Jimin would be willing to drive eight hours for you on a work day. Everyone was still outside, you could hear shouts and laughter, water splashing as you stepped inside the cabin. 

It was warm and cozy, buried in neutrals and warm colors, blankets piled on the couch that sat in front of the fireplace. Walking around you examined each room before smiling a little, choosing the one that had a lake view, Taehyung would certainly love it. Pulling the polaroid camera out of your bag you lifted it up before taking a photo of the window. You’d make sure to bring it to show him when you came back home. 

“I didn’t take you for polaroids.” 

You jumped as your gaze snapped to the person who seemed to become all too familiar with you the past month now. Pulling the photograph out of the dispenser you gave it a little wave as silence sat between you both, “I’m not.” You mumbled as you carefully set the camera back in your bag, your thumbs edging the sharp stiff ends of the photo. 

“Y/n,” You didn’t look up at him despite his voice sounding soft, feet gently padding against the floor and he was surely right behind you now, Namjoon’s voice soft, maybe even a little sad as he murmured, “Why do you always seem so sad when I ask?”

Letting your fingers trace against the photocard you let a small melancholy smile tug on your lips, “Because,” Your eyes blurred a little and your throat felt tight as you mumbled, “These things I do, going to art museums, taking polaroids, I do them because,” You turned to face Namjoon as a tear slid down your cheek, “He loved it. Even if I never did. I do it for him..” 

Namjoon’s expression had hardened a little, he seemed lost, maybe even angry, maybe he was tired of constantly seeing tears in your eyes, he bowed his head a little, eyes seeming somewhat broody as he muttered, “I see…I’ll leave you to it, I guess…” 

You weren’t sure why your heart clenched at the way his face seemed so forlorn, broody as he turned on his heels. Your throat squeezing and his name never reached your lips like you instinctively wanted too. 

You thought that, maybe when he left you’d feel better, more at peace. But that broody expression haunted you as you sat up in the window seal loft, letting your knee’s curl against your chest as a dull ache came from your heart. 

This ache was different, it wasn’t like the one you had anytime you thought of your soulmate. This was...different. New. Like something was wilted but still had a chance. Your chest felt heavy and your mind was telling you to go after Namjoon, to get him to smile and clear up whatever misunderstanding there was. You didn’t understand either, truthfully, what did you say to make him look like that? 

You had opened yourself up and told him a little and he...he acted gloomy, as if life was sucked from his body. You didn’t understand but...but you’d like too...Watching everyone splash and muffled screams from the window you let your head press against the glass as you sighed. Closing your eyes, even in the crowdest places you always felt so lonely. 

-----

 It was a full moon out tonight, glossy and incandescent to anything you had ever seen. Oftentimes when you felt lonely Taehyung used to always tell you, ‘Just look at the moon whenever you feel lonely. Someone at that exact moment is looking at it as well. You’re never truly alone’

It always made you feel better, even now. Someone was probably looking at this same moon as you right now and you couldn’t help but wonder. What were they thinking? Was there a reason they were admiring such a beautiful sight as the sky? Carefully you slipped on your shoes, curling the cardigan around your body as you opened the main door of the cabin before walking outside. 

Grassing brushing softly against your feet and crickets cooed with the rustle of trees and cool air, it was a little humid out but not hot enough to make you want to shed your cozy layer. Walking down the path you glanced up at the sky were the stars speckled across the deep midnight blue horizon. 

You paused on your walk when you noticed a little wooden bridge, it wasn’t the cute sight itself but the person who stood on it, “Namjoon?” You called out softly to the man who was leaning over the railing, observing the moon that sat in the painted sky. He jolted before whipping around as you approached slowly. 

“Y/n…?” He seemed surprised, of course he was, it was only two in the morning after all. You were supposed to be the only one out here right here, trying to clear your head, let go of what your heart didn’t want too. 

Wrapping your arms around yourself you stepped onto the bridge as you murmured softly, “May I join you?” It was hard making out his facial expressions in the moonlight, but you thought maybe you saw hesitation on his face for a brief moment. 

“Of course,” Even in the dark you could spot those pretty dimples, leaning back against the railing he hummed, “You’re always a pleasant company to have.” For some reason, his words took you off guard. They seemed...sincere, yet, distant perhaps? They seemed odd given the last time you had spoken. 

You let your arms rest against the railing beside him, crickets sounding and the water gently lapped, even in the dark though the moonlight reflected against the water making it sparkle with assorted gems. It was quiet between you both yet the pressure in your chest swelled, the sudden need to apologize for earlier today. You weren’t sure why it felt imperative to do so. Or as if it was even necessary. 

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong earlier-” “I’m sorry about what I said earlier-” 

It seemed you were not the only one to have an apology on your mind. Both you and Namjoon had bursted at the same time before pausing, tripping over one anothers words before you stopped altogether. Glancing at him briefly before you both began to laugh softly. 

“I’m sorry- uh you can go first!” You squeaked, glancing away from him as you looked back out over the water, letting your body lean against the old wooden grooves that scraped lightly against your skin. 

Namjoon was silent for a moment before he replied, somewhat quiet, maybe even shy? “Well…” He drawled, “I just...wanted to apologize about earlier. My words were unnecessary and I shouldn’t have asked you such a personal question. You have every right to feel the way you do and it wasn’t my place to ask something like that.” 

It was silent for another moment before you let your eyes flit to Namjoon’s figure, you could make out the silhouette of his face which seemed almost forlorn, in deep thought as he looked out over the moon, “Oh…” You mumbled, as you glanced back at your hands, fingers tracing the dry harsh groove of the wooden railing, “Well...I just wanted to say I’m sorry for…” You paused for a moment, what were you apologising for? “...being me I guess.” 

You didn’t mean for it to sound depressing, but you supposed it was the truth, you felt like you had become nothing but a shell of a person since what had happened. Like you had become closed off, difficult to get to know, moody, temperamental. It was no wonder Namjoon was so fed up with your constant switch in behavior, “I know I’m...me...but...thank you for tolerating it. It’s nice having someone outside of my friends to talk to.” 

“Don’t apologize for that.” Your gaze jumped to Namjoon, a little startled at how stern his voice was, you couldn’t necessarily see him but you could feel his sharp, judgmental gaze on your figure, “I’m sure you have your reasons. And truthfully, like I said. I just… had clouded judgment,” Namjoon murmured cryptically, “I let my emotions get in the way when I talked to you earlier today. I’m more than happy to be your friend Y/n! You aren’t a burden or something I’m just tolerating, I talk to you because I like you.” 

You felt better but....something still felt withered inside you...you mustered a smile as you shrugged, “I guess so...I know I’m not always responsive sometimes...but...if we’re okay then let’s not talk about what happened anymore! What are you doing out here so late?” You didn’t want to dwell on what happened, it made you feel icky and gross inside even after clearing things up with Namjoon, you still didn’t understand why it wouldn’t go away. 

Namjoon laughed a little as he shrugged, “To think, I’ve always been a bit of a moon child honestly. Looking up at the sky always helps me clear my head. I should be asking you what you’re doing out this late.”

You rubbed the back of your neck bashfully as you shrugged, “I couldn’t sleep tonight, I like going out on walks, get out of my room, my head.” You glanced down at the rippling water, a frown on your face as you held in a sigh. Truthfully, you couldn’t sleep because Namjoon’s expression kept playing in your head. The way he seemed so distant and cold earlier, it bothered you to no end yet you didn’t understand why.

So you came out here to look at the moon in the open, feel the warm air on your skin and maybe you’d find whatever you were looking for. It seemed, what you had been looking for was Namjoon, and of course there he was, on this bridge. You didn’t know what this meant or what to take away from it. But you were happy you found him regardless.

“I can understand that,” Namjoon chuckled softly, his expression soft as he glanced up at the night sky, gaze still somewhat muted compared to before but...it still seemed sad, maybe the kind of sad where you just accept a situation for what it was, “Well, at least the moon brought us together.” 

His gaze met yours as you mirrored his smile, a little bashful as you rubbed your cheek, looking out over the rippling water as you mumbled, “I guess it did…” Letting your chin rest against your arms as you stretched out your back. There was something… oddly comforting about Namjoon’s presence? You weren’t sure, but you liked it…

You really liked it.

“Have you ever considered that Plato was just on drugs the whole time he was writing?” You slurped on your noodles as you glanced up to meet Namjoon’s exasperated expression making you smile as you snorted. 

“Dualism?” 

“Drugs. Who the fuck thinks about the mind and body being seperated in like 11 AD?” You snorted again as Namjoon groaned, sinking into his seat. He had been trying to talk about his latest readings to you and you had been...not making fun of it! Just...making the conversation interesting, “No seriously, didn’t they burn women back then for just knowing how to read? It just seems so...primitive for philosophy to be introduced so early in time with all things considering back then….”

Namjoon rubbed his face as he sighed, unable to resist the smile that tugged on his lips as he clacked his tongue, “Alright fair enough, what do you suggest we talk about then if you refuse to talk philosophy.” 

You puckered your lips, holding your chopsticks animately as you replied, “We could talk about how corrupt the patriarchy was throughout time and how men used religion as a way to justify the oppression of women and slavery?” 

You snorted at the way Namjoon, for the first time in your friendship seemed speechless, perhaps impressed, or simply just stunned before he sighed with a shrug, “Alright fine, but first of all some women actually did have some say in different cultures. But it had a lot more to do with classism then gender. Take a look at the Spartans as examples.” 

You held up a finger as you replied, “Except the only reason women received burials was because they gave birth to Spartans? I mean A for effort I guess,” You rolled your eyes, “But that doesn’t change the fact that women were only honored for giving birth to men, still seems like a convoluted way of saying women weren’t worth even burials unless they were of some use to men.” 

Namjoon hummed as he rubbed his chin, “Fair point, really I think because-” 

“Well look who it is!”

Both you and Namjoon jumped at the sound of a chipper loud voice, your lips twisted into a mild frown at the sight of Jungkook and Hoseok’s shit eating grins, without invitation immediately plopping down in the booth, Jungkook sitting beside you and Hoseok mirroring him, “So what are you two doing on this fine day?” 

There was something in Jungkook’s tone that made you shift awkwardly, why did he sound like you both were up to something when you weren’t, rubbing the back of your neck you mumbled, somewhat reluctantly, “Well we were just having lunch…?” 

“Oh, you mean like-” Hoseok suddenly grunted in pain, Namjoon harshly elbowing him as he cut his eyes at his best friend. You glanced between the both of them, it seemed like they were having a conversation by only facial expressions before Namjoon spoke up, “We were just talking about the oppression of women through history. Thoughts?” 

Both Hoseok and Jungkook wrinkled their noses, never ones to get involved in these kinds of discussions no matter how true they may be. Rather than talk about that, it seemed they had come over to, what? Stir the pot?

“Nah,” Jungkook attempted to wrap an arm around your neck as you shoved him away, a grin on his face as he hummed, “I just haven’t seen Noona getting out as of late, it’s good to see you both together.” Now you were feeling weird. Rubbing the back of your neck you looked away from all of them, well aware of your expression becoming flatter by the moment. 

Namjoon was beginning to look apprehensive as well as he coughed, “Uh, well, we were just eating…?” He seemed somewhat sheepish and even if it was unsaid you could tell he was trying to make it clear this wasn’t a date...Right? You had paused mentally for a moment, but...this did kind of seem like a date…

No, friends could hang out! You nodded to yourself silently, Namjoon was a friend and you needed friends, and in order to make friends you had to hang out! And even so, it wasn’t like Namjoon was interested in you and...you...you....a lump in your throat formed as you pucker your lips on your cup. No you weren’t gonna go there. 

“Right…!” Hoseok gave a bright yet odd smile as him and Jungkook shared a laugh, as if they knew something you didn’t, “Well, we’ll just ah...let you two get back to it.” He winked as Jungkook wiggled a brow at you before they both got up. 

You felt confusion wash over you as you watched them both walk away, frowning a little as you sank back in your seat, “That was weird.” Were the first words that tumbled out of your lips. On one hand you wanted to ask why they were acting like that but...wasn’t it obvious…? 

Namjoon offered a weak smile as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah…” His reply was hardly a murmur though as he looked down at his pork bulgogi looking not nearly as hungry as he proclaimed he was twenty minutes ago. 

The rest of your lunch had become...stale...no matter how hard you or Namjoon tried the air of what had happened with Hoseok and Jungkook lingered and continued to pester the back of your head. What were they trying to insinuate? That it was a date? Because it wasn’t…! You weren’t…! You could feel frustration tug inside your subconscious but you didn’t understand why. 

Namjoon and you were currently walking on the sidewalk, namely back to your apartment which just so happened to be on the same path as one of Namjoon’s acqtuance’s house where he had promised he would help them study. The weather was nice today, the wind was blowing a cool breeze and the sun was warm on your skin. On harder days you often tried to sunbathe, to soak in it’s rays and feel it’s warmth. You had read somewhere that if you soaked up enough warmth that it would manifest into positivity.

Or maybe that was just something you made up to make yourself feel better? On dimmer days you like grounding yourself in your five senses, even if they seemed dull and void. Today was not a bad day though. Not for the weather and neither for you. In fact, it was perfect. The air was fresh and you could smell the lavender bushes on the sidewalk that had been planted waft with each blow of breeze. 

“I’m really sorry for what happened.” You opened your eyes as you paused, looking at Namjoon who walked beside you, his cheeks looked a little red and he wouldn’t meet your gaze as you tilted your head, unsure of what there was to be sorry for. His gaze flicked to yours, seeing your confusion before immediately following up, “About Hoseok and Jungkook...ah…” He gave a somewhat weak smile as he looked away, hesitation in his eyes, “It feels like they made things weird…”

“No..!” You immediately shook your head, not wanting to make him feel worse by admitting they really did make you feel odd, but you were positive that was your own self projection, after all you had that tendency with Namjoon since you first met… “It’s fine, you don’t need to apologize.” You offered a soft smile as you began to walk again, Namjoon following along said to you as you continued, “It was weird yeah, but, I mean we’re still friends so…” Pausing in front of the entrance of your apartment complex you shrugged as you smiled, “Don’t worry about it! They’re just being dumb. Anyways, i’ll see you later.” 

You offered one last smile before heading into your apartment, Namjoon deflating somewhat as he sighed, watching you walk away once again as he rubbed the back of his neck, kicking a small pebble that had surfaced from the pebble surface of the resident sign, “Yeah...friends…” 

Namjoon decided to not linger on your words, the more he thought about it the more it stung and he didn’t want to act like a kicked puppy, you didn’t owe him anything other then your friendship he just...He sighed as he began walking to his friends home, surely he’d give good advice. After all, Seokjin was highly popular with women. 

After arriving at his apartment Namjoon hadn’t intended on letting out as much as he did, but it was admittedly nice to unload all of his feelings without feeling obligated to hold back, if he told his best friend he knew Hoseok would only make things worse despite having good intentions. 

“So,” Seokjin plopped the sucker into his mouth, leaning back on the bed as his eyes glazed over the textbook, “You what…? Wanna bang her? What’s the deal?” 

“No!” Namjoon immediately objected before groaning as he sank back in his seat, unsure of how to explain, “I don’t just want to sleep with her…” He muttered, “I just...want to get to know her. But it feels like there's this…” He waved his hand around, “Invisible wall, like she doesn’t want me to get to know her. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to make her like this though…” He paused a moment, evaluating all of his past actions. Namjoon was positive he was a nice guy, you owed him nothing but, he had hoped maybe at least his behavior would explain why you were like this yet...He genuinely couldn’t think of anything. 

Well except maybe back last month at the cabin when he had gotten cold, the memory made him wince but...you had been even worse before then...So what was it…? Namjoon felt helpless as he glanced at his elder who shrugged loosely, pulling the sucker from his mouth as he replied, “Maybe it’s just her Namjoon. Regardless she doesn’t sound interested so you shouldn’t get your hopes up.” 

Namjoon paused, could it just be you…? He never actually thought about it before, always assuming he was the problem. Not that you were the problem but, “I just wish things weren’t so easy to become awkward between us.” He sighed as he flipped the page of his book. 

Seokjin eyed him curiously as he hummed, “Well what do you mean? Awkward how?” Seokjin didn’t consider himself a playboy like many would dub him but he had definitely gotten around enough to at least get an idea of how women worked emotionally, when to pursue and when to back off. 

Namjoon shrugged as he replied, “It’s just...weird...I can tell she starts overthinking and questioning. Like it’s difficult for her to even go out for just lunch with me. Awkward like, just the idea of being on a date with me makes her wanna bail...that kind of awkward…” He slumped in his seat, “Am I really that unlikeable?” 

Seokjin snorted, curving a brow at his friend who looked rather pathetic at the moment, “I think,” Tapping his lip Seokjin hummed, “She has some stuff she’s sorting out, and it’s not you. It’s just her, I’m sure if you asked her that, she’d say the same. If you haven’t been an ass to her in any way shape or form, it sounds like she’s just working through some stuff. Sucks but hey, you won’t know if you don’t ask…” 

Namjoon groaned, he knew Seokjin was right, if he’d just got the balls and asked you he was positive you’d give him an answer...well- doubt filled his mind, “I think her last boyfriend left her, or...maybe he hurt her? I don’t know.”

This perked Seokjin’s attention, straightening a little as he curved a brow, “Oh?” 

Rubbing his neck he shrugged as he weakly replied, “Yeah, she mentions some guy sometimes, whenever I ask about the things she does which she doesn’t enjoy. Like that polaroid she carries around, or she sometimes goes out to museums. I don’t know.” Jealousy oozed despite Namjoon knowing he had no right to feel jealous. 

Just the idea of someone hurting you deeply upset and angered him though, especially if it was to the point of you closing your heart to anyone else, Seokjin pressed his lips together, “Huh...that is kind of weird. Well…” Seokjin rose a brow as he emphasised his words while glaring Namjoon down, “Guess you’ll never know if you don’t ask.” Namjoon could only muster a groan. Asking you had to be the worst idea ever. 

----

“Come on! Noona it’ll be a fun way for you to get out!” You sighed in exasperation, looking away from Jungkook’s big puppy eyes that were just begging you to go with him, it was already hard enough to get yourself out of bed by noon today just to meet up with him for lunch let alone going to a party tonight. 

“Jungkook,” You pressed your lips together, trying to look at him only for him to whine as he shifted in his seat, the food court in the mall was packed today with life and energy, you had promised Jungkook you’d help him shop for more dressy clothes today as he was...attempting to pursue someone. Whoever that may be as he was too shy to say, “You know I’m not into parties…” 

“Just this once!” Jungkook begged as he laced his fingers together, sitting up in his seat with his lips jutted into a pitiful pout, “I’ll stay with you the whole time Noona! I think it’ll be fun! And if it isn’t we can go home the moment you say and- and I’ll buy you some kimbap and we can watch a movie of your choice!” 

He drove a hard bargain, you sighed as you sunk into your seat, crossing your arms in thought, you supposed...there couldn’t be any harm in going…? You pressed your lips together as you closed your eyes briefly, just thinking about this made you exhausted but you knew Jimin would be ecstatic if you had went out tonight, he had been encouraging you to get out more and….”Okay let’s say, I went to this party...who would be there?” 

Jungkook’s lips parted in excitement as you cut him off, “That I know.” 

His lips immediately snapped shut once more, as his eyes dropped to the table somewhat sheepishly, “Look, Noona...Think of it like this, it’s a great opportunity to meet new people! Hoseok and Namjoon will be there! You know them! And they know people you could meet too! I’ll be there for what it’s worse…” He gave a bright bunny smile as you looked away from him, “Hey! Don’t give me that look!” He cried out with another pout on his face. 

Taehyung and you both never enjoyed parties, he was a social butterfly sure but he always said he hated the taste of alcohol and besides, what was the point in going out when he could just stay in with you. It felt like a bitter prick against your heart at the bitter reminder. Right, you were gonna stay in tonight, maybe cry in the shower, wear that set of pajamas that used to match with his while watching a stupid romcom he loved. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Hey Y/n.” 

You closed your eyes as you put your hands on your face trying to cover the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “Sorry.” You sniffed as you felt both shame and embarrassment coil inside your body, all this time and you can hardly even think about him without crying still. It’s no wonder Jungkook probably doesn’t want to hang out with you. 

“Noona!” Jungkook cried out, “You have nothing to apologize for, look,” He fumbled somewhat frantically as he gathered up the trash of your left over food, “You don’t have to go, it was just a suggestion! I don’t want you to be sad though so let’s go over to the Gap and I want your opinion on these two shirts okay?” 

You sniffled as you rubbed your watery eyes, a snort escaping you as you replied, “The Gap has ugly clothing Jungkook.” To which he gasped in offense as you stood up with him. 

“First of all don’t judge until you see, second of all you have horrible taste Noona, no offense.” You rolled your eyes despite the tiny smile tugging on your lips as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Maybe, Jungkook was right, and after all…he said he’d take you home if you weren’t having fun...

This was an awful idea. There was no backing out of this idea once you expressed your interest to Jungkook and he dragged you from store to store because this outing was no longer about him as it was finding something new for you to wear, he had even insisted on paying for it himself. 

Jungkook was no longer in sight nor on your mind as he had been talking to Hoseok last you had seen him, who was cheerifully talking to him despite the shy look on his face. Of course he had gotten your permission, not wanting to leave you by yourself, just as he promised he wouldn’t. For as much of annoying brat as he was, he was also truly a sweetheart.

“Are you okay?” Your concern however, wasn’t on Jungkook right now given you were no longer downstairs as you paused and turned towards Namjoon who looked like he was having a mid life crisis despite being twenty four and at a frat party- but you supposed being younger than twenty one at something like this could cause that.

Namjoon’s eyes darted at the closed door and his mouth felt dry, opting to nod instead as you sat down on the bed. Truthfully you had made the pack to just stick to Jungkook tonight and let him do the talking but  it was by chance you bumped into Namjoon here who had also been dragged to this party by his friend- Seokjin who was apparently a frat brother at this fraternity.

It was loud and the whole place reeked of weed, whoever wasn’t locked in a haze was definitely drunk and it had been over all unpleasant. 

The one saving grace you had found was Namjoon, it was too loud downstairs and with Jungkook off with Hoseok you kept getting interrupted by other people asking for him. Finally asking if Namjoon would like to go upstairs where it would be more quiet. 

And here you were, “It’s nice up here.” You glanced around the semi clean room, “At least it smells like Axe.” Which wasn’t much better than marijuana but you’d take it.

Namjoon snorted as he plopped down on the bed, a humored smile on his lips as he replied, “Yeah it just smells like a middle school boys locker room.” He laid back against the bed as he stretched out, closing his eyes as he soaked in the atmosphere, today felt...different...he wasn’t sure how but, he liked it. 

You seemed happy today, or at least you looked happy. And you were smiling more at work. Namjoon really liked your smile, “Hey,” He hummed as he opened his eyes and glanced at your upright figure, “Why did you come tonight? I thought you didn’t like parties?” 

You gave a somewhat sheepish laugh as you shrugged, running a hand through your hair as you replied, “Ah well…” You seemed a little flustered as you glanced away from him- not wanting to admit that Jungkook had nearly cried from begging you to come because he really wanted you to at least try it just once, all in the name of getting yourself back out there, but the one leading motivate that he continuously brought up, was Namjoon, “Jungkook wanted someone to come with him. He gets worried about me occasionally.” You rolled your eyes briefly despite the small smile on your face, “Says he doesn’t want me to become a hermit.”

Namjoon’s expression softened a little, that was something else he never quite understood, were your friends just that caring…? It seemed a bit unnormal the way they always eyed you with concern despite you brushing them off, “It just shows he cares.” Namjoon offered a smile as you sighed, flopping down onto your back next to him as you glanced up at the ceiling. 

“I know,” You admitted as your smile slowly formed into a frown, your gaze hardened at the dirty ceiling as your brows pinched together, “I just…” You inhaled sharply, sounding somewhat frustrated as you sighed, “I just wish they’d treat me normal sometimes...you know? It’s nice knowing everyone supports me but…” You felt a bitter smile curl on your lips, “I can always see the pity, like I’m just a kicked puppy that needs a little love…They all mean well but…” 

“I can understand why you’d feel frustrated,” Namjoon spoke up, rolling over to face you, sincerity in his eyes as he spoke, “I wouldn’t want to be treated like that either. It’s hard being in a room full of people who all look at you like you’re broken when you aren’t.”

His words hit deeper then you wanted to admit, your throat suddenly feeling restricted as you glowered at the ceiling trying to blink back tears. Perhaps it was the realization that people do look at you like you're broken. Maybe you were, afterall, you weren’t the same anymore. You could barely hold a smile on your face anymore. 

You suffered long nights full of dreams of torment and tears in your waking hour to numbness and wondering why life was even worth living. You had debated on the fall from your window and you had even wondered about the knives in the kitchen drawers. You felt your lips twitch into a bitter smile as you laughed, feeling tears drip down as you replied, “I’d think the same if I were them. I don’t even blame them.” 

Namjoon sat up as he frowned, looking resentful at your words as you wiped your face, “Hey.” You sniffed a little as you sat up, wiping your tears on your sleeve, “You aren’t broken, people shouldn’t be so quick to judge.” 

“You’re just saying that because you're nice.” You scoffed as you glanced down at the bed, your eyes glaring despite the blur, you fought with yourself at night on why Namjoon was even friends with you, surely he just thought you needed help. Needed friends. Why did it hurt to think of it like that? It’s what you wanted, right? 

You squeaked in surprise at Namjoon’s large hands suddenly cupping your face, forcing you to look him in the eyes as you were taken back on how intense his stare was, anger evident on his face as his jaw clenched, “Don’t assume that. You aren’t broken and I don’t look at you like you need to be fixed okay?” His expression softened a little as he watched your eyes begin to blur again, your shoulders shaking as sniffled, trying your damnedest to not cry as you gritted your teeth. 

Defeatedly you closed your eyes as you let your tears fall, why couldn’t you stop crying? Why was everything so confusing and why did it all have to hurt? Namjoon let his thumb rub across your cheekbone, wiping away the tears that dripped down as you closed your eyes, “I don’t care what’s happened okay? I just want to help you be happy again.”

“I don’t deserve it,” You spat out as you choked on your tears, unable to even look at him, you felt so useless, worthless, all of the life left your body with Taehyung when he- your breath escaped you, catching yourself as you nearly choked on the influx of tears. It didn’t matter anymore, nothing mattered anymore. He was gone and he wasn’t coming back. 

Namjoon could feel his heart crumble with every tear that dropped down your face, his thumbs soothingly wiping every drop away, “Yes you do. Please, don’t say that about yourself.” Namjoon felt like a faucet and he couldn’t stop the overflow of emotions, unable to keep it to himself any longer when you were so obviously in pain. When you hated yourself for reasons unknown to him, “You will always be worth it to me, okay?” He pressed his forehead against yours, his smile pained as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut, “There will never be a day I don’t think that?” He said breathlessly, his eyes dulled and pained at your sobs, “Don’t cry love.” He spoke softly, closing his eyes, letting the warmth of your skin seep against his as he rubbed his thumbs over your cheeks. 

“I don’t know how. I-I’m sorry....” You mumbled as you sharply sniffled, trying to calm yourself down as your heart ached. You thought for sure you had gotten better, but it became apparent you were just trying to block Taehyung out, and you couldn’t do that. He didn’t deserve it. Taehyung absolutely did not deserve to be blocked out of your memory or forgotten. 

“Shhh.” Namjoon hummed soothingly, his nose rubbing against yours, his fingers tracing down your jawline, “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Your lips trembled at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin, you could feel the hesitation from him, just a ghost of brush from his lips as you sniffled before he fully pressed his lips against yours. 

The kiss was wet, not in a very pleasant way, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks as his lips began to tenderly stroke against yours, his hands so warm against your face as you sobbed against his mouth, parting your lips at the feeling of his soft lips that felt so right against yours. It was like intimacy and warmth you craved. 

The kiss which was gentle quickly turned more heated, your body immediately crawling closer to his as your lips parted for him, his tongue immediately pushing past to enter your mouth as dominance was immediately one, a soft moan escaped you as long fingers trailed down your face to your neck. Your body was lighting up at the memory of those long fingers wrapped around your throat, the heat of his body against yours. 

All the sleepless nights you spent together moaning in passion. Taehyung’s hands trailed down your waist, squeezing tight making you whimper as you crawled into his lap, seeking the comfort only he could bring as you let his tongue lap and force yours into submission in a sloppy wet kiss. 

The knock on the door immediately made you jolt, opening your eyes only to let out a yelp. This was not Taehyung- but Namjoon. You frantically fell out of his lap, all too aware of your shocked expression and tear stained face as you wiped your mouth...You just...kissed Namjoon...The twist of betrayal in your heart wouldn’t stop stabbing as the door opened. 

Namjoon’s lips had parted, looking somewhat frantic to apologize and explain himself when he saw how devastated your expression was, “Oh- uh sorry.” Seokjin looked somewhat sheepish to see the both of you, a girl peeping behind his shoulder looking somewhat embarrassed herself, “Were we um…?” 

“No!” You sharply replied, getting off the bed as you felt your hands violently tremble. You just...you just kissed...you imagined...you thought…“You didn’t.” You rushed past the both of them as you the music pounded into your head and it was like the lights became blurred but not from tears anymore. All of your senses were on overload as your mind sneered at you, you just kissed someone who wasn’t Taehyung, as if he didn’t exist, it didn’t matter whether or not you thought it was him. It wasn’t. It wasn’t Taehyung, how were you ever supposed to forgive yourself? 

“Y/n! Y/n!” 

You didn’t stop until you were suddenly yanked back, “Y/n please,” Namjoon looked at you pleading, “I’m sorry, I overstepped my boundaries and I shouldn’t-” 

“I don’t like you Namjoon.” Your heart was frantically beating out of your chest as tears began to blur in your eyes, shaking your head as you pulled from his grip, “This- it wouldn’t work. Don’t waste your time.” Your voice was ice cold despite the tears dripping down your face as you glared at him, the hurt in his eyes was unmistakable as you turned around. 

Your body in shock as you closed your eyes, letting the tears slide down your cheeks. Walking downstairs you bumped into the person you were just looking for. Jungkook had first smiled upon seeing you before his expression immediately became worried, “What happened?” He was by your side instantly. 

Sobbing you covered your ears, the music and lights too much as guilt ate you alive, “I wanna go home Jungkook.” You felt like a child as you wrapped your arms around yourself, Jungkook immediately wrapping an arm around you as he guided you out of the house. 

How could you ever function after this…? 

“Y/n please, we’re worried.” Jimin kneeled down in front of you as your body trembled, burying further into your blanket curled up on the couch as you shook your head. You couldn’t even speak about what happened without feeling the violent urge to throw up. 

How could you ever do that to Taehyung? What would he think? Closing your eyes you sobbed once more as you heard Jimin demand, “What happened? What do you mean she came downstairs crying?” 

Jungkook sat beside you and had refused to leave your house despite it being three in the morning, concern washed on his expression as he replied, “I don’t know! She and Namjoon went upstairs for a while and then she came back down crying and asked to come home. She wouldn’t talk the whole way home.” 

Just the sound of his name sickened you, your fists curling against the blanket. You couldn’t be angry at him, after all, you had enjoyed it. You craved it. You were the one who was disgusting. Jimin rested his hands on the couch as he looked at you with a frown, “Y/n…” His heart broke at the sight of your crumpled figure buried in blankets, “Did he take advantage of you? What happened?” 

“I imagined him…” You sobbed as you whispered, lips trembling at just the mental imagine in your head, looking up at them with tears welling as you confessed, “I kissed him and all I could see was Taehyung.” You buried back into the blankets as you sobbed, tears staining the warm cotton as you closed your eyes, “I miss him so fucking much. It hurts, it hurts to even breathe knowing he's dead. What’s the point in even being alive if he isn’t here with me? I’d do anything to be with him again. I can’t fucking do this anymore.” 

You curled up as you squeezed your eyes shut, confessing every single thought that had built in your head, “I can’t…!” You couldn’t even register who was hugging you or who was saying what anymore, it was all a blur.

You weren’t even sure when you fell asleep. 

Waking up your head was groggy and you groaned, when did you get in bed and... why was Jungkook here? Jungkook was curled up next to you, his breath in a soft rhythm as you sat up, rubbing your head as you began to recall the night before, your suddenly squeezing as you swallowed back the shame and guilt. 

Stupid

Stupid 

Stupid. 

You should’ve kept it to yourself- you were never supposed to say anything you said last night…”Hey…” You coiled away from Jungkook’s soft voice, deeper than normal as he had obviously just woke up, if he didn’t think you were a kicked puppy before he definitely does now, “Hey…:” His voice was considerably softer as he sat up, a frown on his lips as he spoke, “You don’t need to feel ashamed for last night Noona...it’s good to get that stuff out…” 

Pressing your hands against your face you felt absolutely mortified as you remembered in vivid detail what happened at the party, “I kissed Namjoon,” You whispered under your breath, “And all I could see was him.” You swallowed the thick knot that squeezed in your throat as you felt Jungkook comfortingly press his hand on your shoulder. 

“It’s a process Noona,” Jungkook felt his lips quiver a little, not liking seeing you in such despair, you often hid it well but overtones always lingered, it hurt seeing you like this, “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” A soft knock on the door sounded through the room before it opened, Jimin poking his head in as his eyes turned sad at the way your body curled into itself. 

“How are you feeling?” Jimin sat on the edge of the bed as you snorted. 

“Like crap.” 

You could hear them both chuckle and you even felt your lips tug into a smile briefly before they quivered back into a frown, “God, I’m sorry guys…” You felt awful, you ruined both of their nights and probably their sleep, just to listen to you cry. 

They both were immediately objecting as you inhaled slowly, sinking into yourself as Jimin sighed as well, his gaze soft as he pressed his lips together, silence taking over the room before he slowly spoke, “Y/n...I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but...I think maybe, we should get you help…” You parted your lips, wanting to object but he continued, “You need help. Y/n,” His lips quivered a little, “I lost my best friend,” His eyes looked glossy as he forced a smile, “I can’t lose you too. Please, at least for a week, for me.” 

You lowered your gaze as you rubbed your face, maybe it would be for the best, you were beginning to see things that weren’t there, Taehyung was everywhere you looked, you could never escape the ghost of him no matter how hard you tried, “I…” You glanced at the sheets in resignation as you sighed, “Okay…” You mumbled, “I’ll give it a try.” 

Only because you didn’t want them to worry over you. 

----

Namjoon couldn’t say for sure what had happened, but he knew, deep down, he had fucked up. Running a hand through his hair he groaned as he paused at the shop in front of him. He knew seeing you now was a bad idea, you’d probably go to the back room and you wouldn’t want to talk to him. 

But he just…! He just needed to know why. Why couldn’t he be with you? He never meant to fall in love with you, but he loved your smile you rarely showed, or the way you’d give witty comments to every subject he’d try to be serious about. And for once, he loved being not serious. With you. Did he go too fast? Should he have waited? 

Namjoon almost didn’t want to go inside, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to handle the rejection, sometimes, it doesn’t matter how long you wait, some people are just not interested. But he was so sure you were, your eyes always seemed so bright and lit up when you laughed together, or how it would soften and you’d listen intently to his worries. He just needed to know…! 

Determined he opened the door to the shop where his lips immediately quirked into a frown. Jungkook had just finished serving a customer when their eyes met, a frown also on his lips as he looked away, “Jungkook…! Where is she?” Namjoon must have looked pathetic, his eyes pleading as he hurried to the counter where Jungkook shied away from him, straightening out some of the coffee canisters as he turned his back to Namjoon, “Hyung….I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He mumbled, somewhat meekly as he figidied. 

Namjoon pressed his hands against the counter as his gaze hardened, “Is she not here?” Of course you weren’t here, he should’ve known you’d take the day off to avoid him. If the need to speak to you wasn’t imperative before it certainly was now, “Jungkook please, I just need to know.” 

Jungkook pressed his lips together as he turned around, frowning as his big doe eyes searched his elder, unsure if you’d appreciate him spilling what had been going on. And truthfully it wasn’t his place either, Jungkook sighed as he spoke reluctantly, “It’s not you Hyung, it’s her...She knows that better than anyone. I won’t say anything because It’s not my story to tell...I’ll talk to her about it and if she says it’s okay I’ll let you know where she is. Okay?” 

Namjoon could feel his lips tremble a little before lowering his head in defeat, Jungkook’s expression was serious and if this was the best he could get then he’d just have to take it, Namjoon felt pathetic and desperate but he just needed to see you. To at least know you were okay. Your expression wasn’t just shocked at the party...you looked devastated. He didn’t understand and he wanted to, he needed to so badly. 

“Thanks Jungkook.” He muttered with a sigh as he rubbed the back of his head, his phone vibrated in his pocket for the fifth time, Seokjin had been blowing up his phone the whole morning, apologies and questions had been spammed and he supposed, he’d stop by the frat house and sulk. 

Jungkook offered an apologetic smile as Namjoon sighed, trudging out the door in defeat as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, the frat house was a short walk from the cafe and he had spent the majority of the time trying to gather his thoughts into something comprehensible for his friend to dissect. 

“You could’ve at least sent me a text!” Seokjin scolded as he opened his bedroom door letting Namjoon walk in, the bitter reminder of the same bed he had sat on not too long ago and let his emotions get the better of him. He couldn’t help himself though, he couldn’t stand watching you cry much less sob, and he had seen you in that state so many times. He just wanted to help, he wanted to make you feel better. 

Seokjin frowned as he paused from his scolding at the way Namjoon dejected collapsed on his bed, walking over he searched the man’s empty expression as he sighed, “What did you do?” 

“I ruined everything.” Namjoon sulked as he pressed his hands to his face, “I kissed her and she looked at me like I was a ghost. I asked Jungkook where she was but he won’t say anything.” 

Seokjin hummed as he sat on the edge of the bed next to his friend, “Maybe she just needs time to sort out her feelings. I talked about it before but it’s pretty apparent now that she obviously has a lot going on, Namjoon.” 

Namjoon knew that had to be the case, otherwise you’d already be apologizing when you didn’t even need too, right? You’d be trying to fix whatever that was last night, and hey, he’d rather have you as a friend then not at all. He loved talking to you, hearing your thoughts on life and the way you perceived the world. 

When you first began talking, your world seemed dim, as if you filtered the world in only shades of grey. But the more you spoke and the longer things went on, the more Namjoon noticed you opened up, color began to flood into your world again in soft tones and smiles. He adored it. 

“I just wish she’d let me help her.” Namjoon mumbled as he rubbed his eyes, “I hate seeing her cry, and I hate seeing her push me away, and it would be one thing if she didn’t like me, but you want to know the worst part Seokjin?” 

Hurt quivered in his veins as he sat up, glaring down at the ground as he felt a bitter smile twist on his lips, “I can tell she does, why else would she want to talk to me after everything that’s happened? So why won’t she let herself just…! It’s so frustarting!” 

Seokjin sighed, unable to help but feel a little bad for him, it was obvious somewhere down the line friendship and something more had become blurred, “I know man,” Seokjin consoled, “Just give it time. She’ll come around when she’s ready.

Three weeks. 

That’s how long Namjoon had spent sulking, lectures he once listened to eagerly had become background noise, flavors seemed less vibrant and nothing was the same without you. By the sixteenth day mark he had almost given up, feeling despondent, he had stopped by the shop a few times only for Jungkook to shake his head in apology. 

That was until today. Namjoon’s eyebrows shot up and his heartbeat felt like it was going to burst out of his chest, “Ah...well, we can go after I get off shift, if that’s okay?” Jungkook offered a small smile, happy to see his Hyung looking a little more upbeat then he had before. It was truly a sad sight not only seeing Namjoon but you look like kicked puppies the past few weeks. 

“Yes! Yeah that’ll work…! Jungkook, thank you so much, you- you have no idea how much this means to me…!” Namjoon fumbled over his words, his smile bright and lit up, excited to see you again even if it was to just apologize over and over again. 

Jungkook smiled a little as he shrugged, “I haven’t done anything, Noona is doing a lot better and she asked when I visited yesterday if you could come.”

Namjoon nodded taking in his information before pausing….visited? As in, at her house? He didn’t quite understand but regardless he was glad to hear you didn’t hate him, or at the very least you still wanted to talk to him. Namjoon would take almost anything you handed him now. Some may find it sad but he was desperate, for closure at least.

Sitting down on your bed you hummed, letting your fingers drag against the pages of the book you had been reading during quiet time for the past two weeks, Jimin and Jungkook visited you nearly every day for visitor hour but when you got the chance you’d try to read, like now. 

Perhaps you were just trying to calm your nerves, you had asked Jungkook yesterday if you could see Namjoon...the past month had been...long...filled with tears and exhausting nights. You hated group therapy and the nurses constantly battled you when it came to any sort of physical activities. But as the weeks went on you reluctantly began to open up more, particularly during your singular therapy sessions, which helped the most. 

‘Tell me Y/n, you said earlier that Taehyung was the most and loving man you ever met,’ you nodded at her words as she spoke, ‘And you have also said that you can’t allow yourself to fall in love because you’d of your fear of forgetting him.’

You looked at your lap as you didn’t comment, unable too, it felt good...to be able to just spill everything to someone who was listening objectively, your therapist wasn’t looking at you like a kicked puppy, her eyes weren’t dripping with pity, she simply was listening, ‘Yeah…’ you mumbled as you folded your hands together. 

“Have you ever considered that, if Taehyung is truly as lovely as you describe him to be, that he’d genuinely want you to move on? That he would always want you to be happy? If he’s as kind as you say. Acceptance is never easy Y/n, especially when you’re grieving the love of your life.” 

You hung your head as you felt your eyes water, a sniffle escaping you as she pushes the tissue box over to you as she gave a gentle smile, “But Taehyung would want you to be happy. I want us to target why you feel this guilt every time you try to open up to Namjoon,” She clicked her pen, “You’ve said in the past, you feel guilty because you feel as though Taehyung is judging you, but in reality Y/n, the only person who is judging you, is yourself. The only person who is stopping you from receiving this love, is you.” 

Grabbing a tissue you wiped your eyes as you sniffled while shaking your head, unable to speak no matter how much you wanted too as she continued, “These things you’re talking about are symptoms of depression, the guilt you feel is your superego saying you don’t deserve to be loved because you would be betraying someone who is no longer here. This doesn’t make your feelings invalid, but,” She clacked her tongue, “I’d like us to work together to rein in the superego and get back to the root of your consciousness. On your own time, I’d like you to have Namjoon pay a visit and talk with him, but in the moments of doubt, when you’re mind is telling you to pull away or that you don’t deserve something, I want you to consciously and actively tell yourself that it’s okay to love again. It’s okay to move on, it’s okay to let someone else in’

‘What if I’m not ready to face him?” You sniffled, somewhat horrified at the idea of seeing Namjoon again, how could you ever face him after something so embarrassing? 

‘You’ll never fully be ready to face someone Y/n,” She replied, ‘But the first step to letting go, in your case, is telling yourself, that it’s okay to be loved again. It’s okay that you’re exploring love again. The only way to accept your feelings and your loss is by moving on. Let yourself open up to Namjoon, tell him the reason your like this and it will make you feel a lot better.’

You weren’t sure if you were ready to see Namjoon but...you felt guilty, guilty for lashing out at him when he didn’t deserve anything and...your fist curled as you inhaled sharply ‘it’s okay to love again’ that’s what your therapist told you and told you to repeat to yourself anytime you were flooded with any feelings of guilt. 

Leaning against the wall your fingers dragged along the line of words, trying to read but your mind wouldn’t focus. Jungkook would be here soon with Namjoon, your roommate, a young eighteen year old girl was out in the dining area with her boyfriend right now. She had been emitted by her parents due to her depression but she told you the only time she felt excitement was at six o’clock every day, knowing he’d be here. 

Love really could heal, couldn’t it? 

The knock on your door made you jump, the nurse Kang Min Soo opened the door, she was the one who shuffled you from activity to activity during the day, offering a small smile she said, “You have visitors Y/n.” Straightened a little you nodded as she opened the door, your heart beating wildly in your chest as your eyes first met with Jungkook who offered a gentle smile, the taller figure of Namjoon behind him, eyes curiously searching his surroundings before meeting yours. 

Unable to hold his gaze you dropped it to your book, closing it as you set it on the bed, “Hey guys…” You mumbled, feeling a little shy as you shifted a little. 

“I know you wanted to talk,” Jungkook hummed, looking a little brighter today then he had within the past weeks, “So I’ll give you both a few minutes. Jimin should be here in about fifteen minutes.” You nodded, murmuring a thank you as he nodded, offering a smile to the both of you before he exited, shutting the door. 

It was quiet for a few seconds as you curled your knees into your chest, “...I’m really sorry…” You mumbled, feeling somewhat pathetic at being unable to even meet his gaze, Namjoon was still quiet and you weren’t sure if that was a good sign or not, “...I know I haven’t been the most transparent…” 

The bed shifted a little as you glanced up meekly to see Namjoon sit down a good distance from you, looking a little careful in his expression before he suddenly blurted out, “There’s another guy...isn’t there?” He looked sullied all of a sudden, casting his expression on the ground, “You don’t have to tell me. It’s obvious you’re in love with someone else.” 

“He’s dead.” 

Namjoon’s gaze up shot so fast he could hardly process your words, his lips parting as he searched your broken expression, eyes watering as you laughed a little, a smile tugging on your lips as you continued, “Namjoon- I loved him, so much.” You glanced up at him sincerely as the tears trickled down your cheeks, the smile looked so bright yet so sad as you sniffed, “He was my soulmate.” 

Closing your eyes you rubbed them as the wet substance stained your skin, “I’ll never forget that night. It was so stupid. Taehyung- he- he had worked overtime that day and got off shift late. Kept texting me saying how excited he was to get home and eat what I had made.” Your soft gaze became a fiery glare as you mumbled, “But by eleven he wasn’t home...and I waited...and waited...and then I began to get worried. It wasn’t until 11:30 that I got a call.” 

Squeezing your eyes shut you forced a laugh, “It was an accident, a stupid fucking accident. Neither made it. The car pulled out too soon without enough time for him to stop, the car ended up flipped and they rushed him to the hospital, by the time I got there they had to rush him into surgery.” 

It was quiet for a moment as tears streamed down your face, covering your sob with your mouth as you shook your head, “Three hours and I never even got to say goodbye. Jimin was against the wall in tears and I don’t even remember what the doctor told me. Just saw a glance of his body in the hospital bed before the door shut…. Sometimes I still wonder, if I had just told him to not worry about the extra hours, if he’d still be here. He would’ve listened, he’d do anything to make me happy…” Pressing your hands against your eyes you bit your lip to keep down the sob as you muttered, “But it doesn’t matter now, he’s gone…” Wiping your tears away you took a shaky breath, “I’ve been in denial, not wanting to accept reality for what it is. That he’s gone...that he’s...dead...that he isn’t coming back. When I kissed you,” You felt new tears already welling in your eyes as you lowered your head in shame, “You made me feel better, and I loved that feeling so much. But all I could imagine was him. It’s not your fault...you don’t deserve to be dragged along because of me.” 

“Hey…” You covered your face as you felt arms wrap around you pulling you into a hug, you couldn’t help but crave the warmth of Namjoon, his steady heartbeat of still being alive, did it make you a sinner to crave his touch? “I...I’m so sorry Y/n, I had no idea...that was what you were going through.” He squeezed his arms around you as you curled against him, too weak to try and fight what you wanted so badly, “But I’m not going to leave you just because of this.”

Covering your eyes you tried to stifle your sob, guilt eating away at you at the idea of leading Namjoon on, he deserved to be loved by someone who could give him their all. 

You couldn’t. 

“Don’t cry,” Namjoon’s lips coiled endearingly, those dimples poking out as he tenderly stroked a hand through your hair soothingly, “We’ll get through this, and we can go as slow as you want. But I’m not going to leave you. Not now, not ever. Okay?” 

He leaned down, pressing a kiss against your forehead as you closed your eyes, tears trickling down your face as you tried your best to push the toxic thoughts that invaded your mind away. Taehyung would want this, wouldn’t he? Right? Remembering what your therapist said you repeated the words mentally, it was okay to be loved again. It was okay to move on.

“Are you sure you really wanna try this?” You sniffed, rubbing the tears from your eyes as you looked up at him, lips quivering as you tried to smile, your mouth faltering as you choked out, “I’m a girl with a whole lot of baggage Namjoon.” 

Namjoon let his hands cup your cheeks, his thumbs pushing away the tears as he gave you a soft reassuring smile, “We’ll get past this, okay? You’ll always be worth the wait.” He closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours. You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, closing your eyes as you felt the small smile tug on your lips. 

Maybe...maybe you could get past this.

You had spent another two weeks at the mental institute before you had felt good enough to sign yourself out and try to pick up your life where you left off, the past month had been...interesting to say the least. Namjoon, much like Jungkook and Jimin, visited you every day. 

Some days were good...others were not so much...But if you learned anything in therapy was to take things a step at a time. Your therapist thought it was wonderful that you had developed feelings for Namjoon, even if it didn’t feel that way. But she had encouraged you saying that it was a sign your heart was ready to move on and heal. 

“I’m so glad you’re back Noona!”

Right now however, you were trying to push Jungkook’s large figure away from you, damn why does this kid have to be so strong? Jungkook was practically like a little boy, running around in excitement when he saw you were put back on your work schedule and has since hugged you for three minutes straight when you walked in, “Jungkook we saw each other Friday.” You complained. 

“Yeah but…! You were in ugly scrubs yesterday and your hair was really greasy,” Jungkook gave you a sheepish grin as you glared at him before pushing him away as he whined, “Besides! It’s your first day back at work!” He clapped his hands, “And you look a lot better! Not as tired anymore, did you sleep well?” 

You sighed as you finished tying your apron, unable to stop the small smile tugging on your lips, Jungkook used to be a lot more reserved in what questions he asked, but having since visited you every day it seems those barriers have long past melted, “Yes, I’ve been sleeping a lot better, but it’s probably because of the medicine I’ve been prescribed to help.” Your smile felt a little weak, but regardless, at least you were sleeping. 

And truthfully, you did feel somewhat, renewed. Like you were no longer strapped to a heavy weight and sinking to the bottom of the ocean. You weren’t sure how to describe it, but you felt lighter these days. Of course you wouldn’t deny how much your being still ached for the man you once loved. You still saw Taehyung in the colors that painted the walls, in the sea you always drove past on your way to work.

But everything seemed so far away now, as if the life you had with Taehyung was just a fuzzy dream. Sometimes late at night you wondered if it was real at all. Yesterday had been painful no doubt, when you arrived home the first thing you did was throw away all of Taehyung’s old clothes you had been keeping. Even his old favorite shirt you always wore to bed. Just the memory almost made your eyes well with tears but you contained yourself. 

Clothes were just clothes, and they wouldn’t make Taehyung come back, would they? 

“Well at least the medicine is helping Noona, sleep is sleep you can’t be picky.” Jungkook was buzzing in happiness before his eyes darted to the girl who was standing at the cash register ready to order, flitting over he began to take her order as you peered from behind. Snorting at the way she flirtatiously smiled and Jungkook fumbled, ears going red as he looked away and rang up her order.

You couldn’t help but smile as you began working on her flat white, “She likes you.” You stated as Jungkook leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as you began to laugh, watching the way his cheeks lit up like little tomatoes. 

“So!? I’m not interested in her.” He mumbled defensively as you clacked your tongue, shaking your head as you set her coffee down at the end of the counter. Of course cupid only liked playing in your love life. As if the universe heard your thoughts the doorbell chimed as your gaze shot up. Two all too familiar figures walked in, well the other bounced in excitement, “Hey guys! It’s good to see you back Y/n! How have you been?” Hoseok practically flew to the counter in excitement. Given his words you doubt he knew what you had been up too but you appreciated the sentiment regardless, offering a small smile as you shrugged, “Just needed a break to clear my head. I’m doing good. Word is you finally bagged someone.” 

Hoseok’s lips parted before he prominently closed them, his cheeks looking red before the door to the back suddenly opened, Yoongi looking around before Hoseok flailed a little, “What!? W-who told you that…?” You looked between them as you raised your brows, unable to keep the smile off your face. 

“Awh, gay is okay guys. You don’t have to be shy.” You could hear Jungkook trying to cover his snort as he turned away to grab the convenient tray of pastries from Yoongi who suddenly looked perturbed and embarrassed, his ears were red as he mumbled something before quickly pushing back into the back room. Hoseok puckering his lips before he caved, a bright smile on his lips as he leaned over, “Hey…you mind if I go back there?” You snorted as you waved your hand. 

“Knock yourself out. Just don’t cum all over the stove.” “Y/n!” “Sorry!” 

You laughed as Hoseok sped around the counter and bolted into the backroom as you shook your head. At least some things changed for the better over the month you had been gone. Shaking your head you hummed, “Someone looks like they’re in a good mood.” His words made your lips tug into a smile as you turned to face Namjoon who had been passively watching the whole situation unfold.

“You don’t know how long I’ve watched them pine for one another,” You replied, looking down as you wiped down the counter to try and keep your gaze from meeting his, it was weird, this warm burning sensation that tickled your insides, it almost felt like butterflies, “It’s nice to see them finally admit it. So are you just here to watch the gays or are you gonna order something?” You looked up, a weird half smile quirked on your lips and you probably looked stupid. 

Namjoon leaned down against the counter as he shrugged, a smile on his lips and those pretty dimples on display, “What should I get?” 

These feelings, constantly repeating to yourself that they were okay, it was all so new. It was hard not to get flustered at his innocent words as you turned to look at the menu before shrugging, “Well you like tea, what about Tropic Blossom? It’s main notes are orange blossom and hibiscus so it’s naturally sweet unless you want stevia in it?” You turned back to face him only to awkwardly look away, feeling your face begin to burn at the way he was looking at you. 

It wasn’t provocative or anything sensual, but his eyes were lit up in a warm glow and his lips were constantly curved upwards in a smile, “Sure, with a chocolate scone too! Hey do you think you could convince Yoongi to make blueberry scones?” 

You rang up Namjoon as you snorted, curving a brow with an amused look before replying, “You could’ve got one back in spring if you had just come with Hoseok earlier. He doesn’t take requests though so no.” 

“Not even for me? Come on, you could convince him.” Namjoon leaned in a little, his lips quirking into a smirk as he hummed, “Just once.” You turned away from him as you tried to ignore the way your face burned. Jungkook had a shit eating grin on his face as he minded his own business, or at least he pretended to as he began making the Tropic Blossom. 

“Just once Noona?” He couldn’t help himself as he gave you patronizing puppy eyes as you glared at him before he snickered, you shoved his shoulder though he hardly budged as you huffed. 

“I will, in the spring.” You clacked your tongue as you tried to control the smile that tugged on your lips as you leaned down as you pulled out the scone, placing it on the plate as you set up the napkin, “Until then you’re just gonna have to live with chocolate.” You stood up, looking up at his figure as you felt a smile tug on your lips once more as you handed him his plate.

“Can I take you somewhere tonight?” 

Your eyebrows shot up at his abrupt words, Jungkook set his tea down as he immediately spoke for you, “She’d love to- Ow!” You jammed your elbow into his rib as he squeaked, suddenly looking at you with sullied eyes like a kicked puppy as he trailed back to the register where a small line had formed.

Take you somewhere…? Like a date…? You weren’t sure if that’s what he meant but...you felt a little at war with yourself, you knew you should be excited but, “Only if you want to,” Namjoon could immediately sense the shift in your demeanor, offering a small smile, “Remember what I said? We can take this at your pace.” 

Well...he was right, you could always head home early if things took an odd turn or...the guilt had faded but you couldn’t help but feel like you were doing something wrong, mustering a smile you nodded, “It’s fine! I get off work at seven though…” 

“Perfect! It’s nothing special,” Namjoon’s smile brightened as he held his cup up, “I’ll see you after work then…” He tipped his drink to you as he gave it a sip, the doors to the backroom suddenly swinging up as you whirled around. 

“What did I say Hoseok?” You couldn’t help the amusement you felt at the sight of Hoseok’s ruffled hair and the suspicious bruises on his neck that were absolutely hickies, he sent you a semi embarrassed and unappreciative look as he replied, “Just get my sugar glaze pastry…”

You couldn’t stop the shit eating grin on your face as you and Jungkook exchanged looks before ringing him up, “And a cumin shot to go?” His glare was worth the joke. 

The rest of the day had come and gone, some hours slow and others fast, Jungkook and you would often go bug Yoongi when things were slow- well it was mainly Jungkook, but you were glad to be back. Things almost seemed...normal? 

Was this what life was really like before....you felt a small lump in your throat form. Before Taehyung? The ache in your heart was still there, but it was no longer the force that would always cause you to topple. Maybe this was the worst part of it all. 

The fact that the once beautiful life you had with Taehyung was over now. You felt a smile tug on your lips and your eyes gloss a little, but for the first time, it wasn’t out of sadness. But happiness, that at the very least, you had Taehyung in your life for as long as you did. Some things just weren’t meant to be. In this lifetime at least. 

Taking a deep breath you pulled yourself from your thoughts as you finished cleaning the counters, Jungkook had already finished taking out all the old pastries and Yoongi had finished cleaning up the back, “You ready to go Noona?” Jungkook called out as he untied his apron. 

“Yeah, gimme a second.” You called back as you tossed your rag into the sink, walking over to the coat rack as you untied your own apron. You glanced out the shop door to see a familiar figure standing out front waiting as you looked back down, suddenly feeling semi embarrassed. 

Jungkook and Yoongi were exchanging glances and you could tell on both of their faces they thought this was both endearing and hilarious, all it took was one glare from you to keep them both from spouting any kind of bullshit. 

Wrapping your jacket around yourself you snuggled up against the warm fabric that fought against the cold air as you walked outside, offering a meek smile to Namjoon who’s eyes lit up at the sight of you, “Hey…” You murmured, trying to calm your heart rate that spiked rapidly for no reason. 

Keeping his hands inside his coat pocket Namjoon greeted you with a brighter smile, “Hey, are you ready to go?” You gave a small nod as you began walking beside him. The sun setting and the air was getting colder at night these days, soon autumn would be here and color would flourish in all the trees. 

Warily, you couldn’t help but feel a small part of yourself that was…looking forward to autumn. It was always a welcomed time of year for you, when cinnamon was strong in the air and you could bake anything with apples in it. Bundling up next to a small campfire and the only time you could wear flannel without feeling self conscious. 

“Where are we going?” You asked softly as you glanced up at Namjoon who peered down at you with a small playful smile, as if he wasn’t going to answer, but he thought it was cute you’d ask regardless. 

“Somewhere.” Namjoon’s smile became bigger as he watched the pout quirk on your lips as you hummed, looking back out at the darkening sky, “It’s nothing special, just something I like doing when I have the next day off.” You tilted your head in curiosity as to where he was taking you. 

You only felt more confused when you stood at the gates of the park, turning to look at Namjoon as you felt a smile curl on your lips, unsure of what to make of this, “Not even a hint?” 

“Well,” Namjoon drawled, pressing his lips together briefly in thought before smiling once more, “We’ll be sitting down. I can’t say anything without giving it away.” 

Sitting down? There was a playground here, would you be sitting on the swings? You hadn’t done that in a long time, but much to your surprise Namjoon walked right past only for your eyes to set on a blanket that looked to already be spread out and a...telescope? Namjoon sat down as he gestured at you with a laugh, “What’s with that expression?” 

“Nothing!” You hurriedly replied, sitting down on the other side of the blanket, “I just…” You looked around before looking up at the sky, lips parting a little only to notice the dark sky blanketed with bright stars, “Didn’t expect this…” You murmured as your eyes darted from star to star, it was a clear night, perfect for stargazing, how long had it been since you even looked up? 

Had you truly forgotten the stars existed before this moment? 

Namjoon’s expression was warm as he gestured you over, “They look even better up close, you can see Pisces from here.” Leaning down you peeped through the lense as Namjoon guided the telescope as you let out a little gasp, “Oh! I think I see it!” You zoomed the lense out a little bit as you pressed your lips together, “Wait, I don’t think that’s it.” 

You had never been good with astronomy but...something about Namjoon laughing softly as you straightened up, something about the way he passionately pointed to each constellation, the way the deep midnight sky melted between the flicks of white that all seemed so...alive…

You really liked this.

You must’ve spent the whole night, looking at the stars laying down, talking about whatever came to mind, you couldn’t take your eyes off the sky for hardly a second. It truly was beautiful. 

“Hey, Y/n.” You hummed as Namjoon spoke up softly, “Do mind, if I ask...about him…” You stiffened a little, your dreamy gaze snapping to Namjoon, more awake now then you had been all evening. 

As if noticing the semi spooked expression Namjoon quickly added, “Only if you’re up to it...I’m sure it isn’t easy to talk about it...But I just…” He seemed a little self conscious as his eyes flickered back to the sky, “I just wanted to know about him, what he was like, what did you do together.” 

You felt a weak smile tug on your lips before closing your eyes, the night sky was no longer in your vision, but it was the warmth of your old home, the apartment you shared with Taehyung, his face which you hadn’t seen in so long was so clear, “He was…” You trailed off for a second before you felt your eyes water as a smile tugged on your lips, “Childish,” You laughed, memories of his pouty expression whenever you reprimanded him, “Playful definitely…” You sniffed as you wiped your eyes, the way he’d smirk and grab you by the waist, murmuring less than appropriate things in your ear, “God he was…” Opening your eyes you laughed again while shaking your head, “Everything I could’ve ever wanted. He made me see colors that don’t exist, noise became music, clouds weren’t just particles anymore,” Tears trickled down your face as you smiled, looking up at the stars, “He told me they were god’s canvas that he painted on every day. Taehyung, he saw beauty in everything.”

You paused as your smile slowly faded, closing your eyes as the pain washed over you, the dull ache in your heart returned as you rubbed your eyes of the tears you had shed, “It’s just…” You felt pathetic, still crying, still missing what once was, “Hard to believe it’s all over, y’know?” 

You felt fingers tug at your hair before gently combing through as you covered your mouth, trying to stifle down the sobs that bubbled in your throat, “He sounds like a one of a kind.” Namjoon offered a small smile as you turned to face him, rubbing the warm tears from your face as you felt a smile tug on your lips. 

“He was terrible! He’d start singing trot off tune and he always made such a fucking mess in the kitchen without cleaning it up!” Memories flashed by in your mind, flour all over the floor and Taehyung's voice low and raspy as he’d cough while trying to sing, the large boxy smile he’d give when you’d wake up to breakfast already made, “And he always left his clothes all over the floor because he never did laundry because he knew i’d do it for him if he waited long enough.” 

“Oh? And how bad were the road trips?” Namjoon’s lips were tugged in a soft smile, laying on his side to look at you as his fingers tangled against your roots. 

“Don’t even get me started,” You both laughed as continued, “Jazz was always a must and it was so boring to listen to for five hours straight and he always bought too many snacks! We went camping one time and...god!” You let out a breathy laugh, “Never again, we forgot to bring bug repellent in the middle of the most humid time of the year and apparently there was like this- retreat? For nudists at the campgrounds at the time and they kept coming over asking if we wanted to take LSD with them and it ended up raining the whole time!” 

Namjoon was snorting out a laugh, humored as he asked, “What did you guys do? I don’t think I can imagine my camping neighbors as nudists.” 

“We had rented out this shitty old camper van so we could keep all of our supplies in the back but, after a long day of being miserable and arguing half the time we packed up and intended on leaving,” You closed your eyes as your fingers traced against the soft blanket, “But when we were driving back we ended up taking a wrong turn and found a cliff side camping spot that was just gorgeous. So we ended up clearing out the back of the van and setting up a ton of blankets and pillows and we enjoyed the view.” 

You could still feel the hard car floorboard against your body with just a few blankets for comfort, curled up against Taehyung with his arms wrapped around you looked out over the valley, that awful weekend ended up being one of your favorite memories, “We turned off our phones, worked through our problems, shared laughs and ate those stupid hostess powdered donuts, and he said it. That first I love you.” 

Tears dripped down your face as you forced yourself to pause, you hated doing this to Namjoon, who obviously held back saying those same words, why was he even doing this to himself? He couldn’t have actually wanted to hear about him. You could see the way his heart always crumbled with every tear you cried, “I miss him so much. I’m sorry.” You whispered in overwhelm, memories you had forgotten resurfacing and you pressed your hands into your face. 

“Shhh,” You were pulled against Namjoon, his arms comfortingly wrapped around you as he held you close, “It’s okay to miss him.” 

-----

“I’m gonna hurt the roots if I just rip it out!” 

You curved a brow as you snorted, Namjoon looked utterly distressed as he attempted to repot his newest set of flowers, mums in shades of deep burnt orange and burgundy, perfect for autumn, “The roots are overgrown!” You argued, “We’re gonna have to cut them down to put less stress on the plants for the love of god just listen to me!” 

You pushed the powdered donut into your mouth before sitting down with him on the wooden picnic table, “Who’s the expert here?” 

“You.” Namjoon unenthusiastically hmphed as he rolled his eyes, but curiously peered down at your hands that pushed down through the soil, carefully extracting the small square of mums as you swallowed the large clump of donut, “Alright we gotta clip these before you can repot them, it’ll promote more growth and they won’t die as quick.” 

“It just seems…” Namjoon watched warily as you clipped the roots with zero hesitation, “...Counter intuitive. Isn’t this like ripping out their lungs?” 

You snorted again, turning to look at him as you pouted animatedly, “Awh you think plants feel? I mean if you wanna get that graphic it’s more like...shaving their lungs…” You watched Namjoon’s nose crinkle in dismay as you laughed, “Seriously though, they won’t get as much nourishment from the soil if you just keep this big ass clump. Root pruning is kind of essential when you’re repotting store bought plants.” 

“Alright but if my flowers die-” 

“Which they won't.” You handed him the pruners as you gave him a cheeky smile, “Well go on, they won’t trim themselves.” You grabbed the bag of mini donuts before plopping another into your mouth, as you inhaled sharply. It was such a beautiful day out, the sun was shining and clouds big and fluffy. 

It was the perfect day to be outside, which is why you were sitting on the picnic table that was one of many sitting outside behind your apartment building. Things with Namjoon have been...good...they’ve been great. It’s been nearly a month of consistently seeing one another, hanging out. 

The pain is still there but, it’s gradually faded with time, you still go see your therapist once a week to talk over things in hopes of not pouring too much out onto Namjoon who was always so patient and kind. You frequented the park at night with him to stargaze and planting and taking care of any greenery had become a thing with you both.

You weren’t sure what it was but, being able to be open and honest about your past relationship with Taehyung, being able to talk about your adventures together, the things you loved and annoyed you about him. Somehow having Namjoon earnestly listen to it all brought you closer to him. You felt safe with him, like he’d wipe your every tear away. 

You really didn’t deserve him. 

Your fists curled in frustration having not caught the words in your mind. Your therapist had been really getting on you as of late to try and redirect your thoughts to more positive affirmations anytime you mentally said you didn’t deserve him. Like...you deserved to have his kindness in your life. 

You could even step into the art museum now without much fear, only because Namjoon loved art and he often contemplated his love of philosophy alongside it. You really were thankful for him. But you couldn’t help but notice something lingering…something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

“So I was thinking.” Namjoon hummed, his eyes purposely looking down at the soil that crumbled beneath his fingers as he pruned the roots carefully, “Why not attend that gala tonight? For Modernism?” 

You tilted your head as you shoved another donut in your mouth, “Gala?” Your voice was muffled as you chewed before swallowing, “I thought you said it was stupid because they should’ve chosen to represent Baroque?” He had done things like this in the past before, it would be one thing if you were an art person and he was doing it for you, but you weren’t. 

 Namjoon looked a little apprehensive as he shrugged, gaining your attention more as his eyes stayed on the mums, “Well...I know you both used to like doing...you know, things like that…” He mumbled, making your mouth fall open. Oh...oh no…! You were afraid of something like this happening. 

“Namjoon,” Your lips tugged into a pout, your voice gaining his attention as he peeked up a little, obviously embarrassed when he shouldn’t be, grabbing the plant from him tenderly you set it into the pot before grabbing his soil covered hands, his eyes anywhere but yours, “Those were things me and him liked to do Namjoon…” 

“I- I just…” Namjoon fumbled a little, “I know you miss doing those things so…” 

Your expression twisted sadly, had you said too much to him about Taehyung? You didn’t want Namjoon to feel insecure about your relationship...not that you were together but...things were obviously headed in that direction, weren’t they?

“I don’t miss doing those things Namjoon, I miss it because it was with him,” You watched the way he frowned, his shoulder’s slumping as he stared down at the table, “And you aren’t him. And I don’t want you to be him,” His gaze suddenly shot up to your expression that hardened, “Namjoon I don’t want to live in the past trying to make old memories new again when we already have something. I wanna create new memories that are just as happy,” You felt a little shy as you looked away, “With you, and with the things we like to do together. So don’t worry about it, let’s just stick with a plans to go to the park tonight, besides didn’t you say a meteor shower was happening,” 

You were casual in your words, trying to play off your heartfelt confession on not wanting him to compare himself to your old lover, that wasn’t the kind of relationship you wanted and it wouldn't be Namjoon if he did things the way Taehyung did. They were two very different men with similar hobbies but for vastly different reasons, but you’d always love them both. 

Wait…

“Draconids, but it’ll be a boring show. They say there’s only five meteors an hour” Namjoon smiled, his chin resting against his arm as he gave you a dopey smile making you laugh as you shook your head. His fingers playing with yours as you replied, “I’d rather be there then at a stuffy art gala.” 

“Noona! Hyung! Oh did we interrupt?” 

You clacked your tongue in annoyance as your hand, still intertwined with Namjoon’s dropped to table to see both Jungkook and Jimin waving, “No you didn’t, asshole!” You added as you yelled back, watching both Jimin and Jungkook belt out with laughter as a smile tugged on your lips. 

It was originally planned as just a lunch outside but you and Namjoon had made more plans on top of that. 

Jimin waved the bag of takeout he had gotten for everyone as they both sat down, grabbing the towel that was laid out Namjoon wiped his hands along yours as he groaned, “Ah I’m starving, why did it take you guys so long?” 

“No reason,” Jungkook hummed, sounding oddly...content…? Your furrowed your brows as you looked between them both, Jimin’s eyes immediately shooting down to the bag of food as he coughed loudly, “Here’s your kebabs you wanted.” 

You ignored whatever subtext was lingering in the air at the sight of you lamb kebabs, hands immediately sticking out with a smile, “Thank you!” When was the last time you had enjoyed food like this? 

You could feel the warm rays of sunshine on your face and the cool breeze that passed over your body occasionally, was this what it was like to feel again? It was hard to keep Namjoon’s bright gaze that looked more and more like love these days, the way he’d just stare at you with that small smile and those dimples of his. You supposed, these days, maybe you really could fall in love with someone else. 

And after all...that’s what Taehyung would want, wouldn’t it? Something continuously held you back though and...suddenly everything became so clear, you knew exactly what you needed to do. And you knew you didn’t need to do it alone. Watching Jungkook and Jimin bid their farewell after lunch your throat became dry as your heartbeat became faster. 

“Namjoon,” You asked before you convinced yourself maybe this wasn’t as good of an idea as you thought it was. 

He hummed, turning to face you, that bright smile on his lips again as he listened endearingly, somehow making it harder to speak and had the sun always been this hot? “...Would you mind going with me...to visit him?” 

Namjoon’s pupils widened a little and his lips parted as if not expecting those words, he sincerely took a moment to ponder them and you appreciated more then if had unwillingly said yes, after a moment he gave you another reassuring smile as he grabbed your hands, “Of course Y/n.” You felt relieved as you gave a small smile in return, you knew exactly what you needed to do. 

It wasn’t until the evening that you went to the flower shop, grabbing a small bouquet of tiger lilies before walking towards the cemetery, Namjoon doing a double take when you shyly grabbed his hand. Touches were innocent still, hand holding still new and it was admittedly welcomed. 

The sunset was vivid today and it seemed just like yesterday you had rejected Namjoon’s offer for lunch in turn to come here, had that really been three months ago? You looked up at his figure that was looking ahead as a smile tugged on your lips. 

The cemetery looked as it always did, serene, carefully walking in the passage ways and making sure to not step onto any graves you paused at the willow tree. Your heart still squeezed as you glanced down. 

Kim Taehyung 

1995 - 2018

‘For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream’

Sitting down you pulled out the rag you had packed, gently wiping off his gravestone as your eyes waters, a soft smile tugging on your lips as your fingers traced against the engraved name, “Oh there’s so many things I wish I could tell you Tae.” You murmured softly, closing your eyes as the tears slid down, the smile still on your face as you sat back, placing the flowers down as an arm comfortingly wrapped around you. 

Sniffing you wiped your eyes as you leaned against Namjoon, your head resting against his shoulder as you closed your eyes, “I’ve struggled for so long to let you go. To let myself be okay with letting you go.” You could imagine Taehyung’s face, his dark locks of hair covering his eyebrows and his soft smile, hands cupping your cheeks, “And I’ll always love you. But I know you wouldn’t want me to go on the way I had been…So I’ve come here to say goodbye I suppose.” 

There was an ache in your jaw and your heart throbbed with that familiar dull ache, Namjoon’s head laying on top of yours as he pressed a kiss against your hair, “You’ll always be with me, and I’ll always cherish the time I had with you. But it’s time that I let myself be happy again. I know you understand. So thank you for...everything. And leading me to the person I belong with now.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as the tears trickled down your cheeks, pressing into Namjoon’s shoulder, even despite your tears you felt, at peace? As if this was meant to be, accepting things for what they were, and that no, you weren’t completely over Taehyung, but this was a good start to letting him go fully. 

Namjoon wrapped his arms around you as you sniffled, scooting against him as you curled up against the warmth he radiated, “I promise I’ll take care of her,” He spoke softly, a gentle smile on his lips as he looked down at your curled up figure, knowing this couldn’t be easy for you to do, “I know we never met, but thank you for making her happy. And I’ll continue to do the same.” He pressed another kiss against your head as he rested his head a top of yours once more. 

Sniffles escaped you as the wind blew through the trees, a soft rustle being the only noise outside your tears as the willow tree swayed in contentment. And if you really wanted to reach, maybe this was Taehyung’s spirit giving his blessing.

For the first time, leaving the cemetery was like a breath of relief, it was as if you had learned to walk on your own for the first time in a very long time. The sun had already set and hand in hand with Namjoon you both walked to the park where you set out the blanket as the moon rose. 

“Thanks by the way,” You turned to face Namjoon in confusion as he offered a small shy smile, “For taking me to visit him today. I know it wasn’t easy to do.” Your heart felt like it was doing little backflips as you crawled out to snuggle up against him, for the first time, craving his touch against you. 

“Of course, but I’m ready to focus on us.” You still felt a little shy yourself but you wanted more than anything to get to know Namjoon, he knew everything there was to know about you by now in terms of your past relationship. There was an unquenchable inferno inside you that wanted to know everything you could about this man. 

Laying down curled up against him Namjoon let his fingers tenderly run against your hair as he whispered, “I’m okay with that.” Your heart for the first time felt content, warm and fuzzy, all the hurt and all the tears you had spent crying felt like just a distant memory in the arms of your lover now. 

Your eyes felt lost in the inky blue sky above the were speckles with stars that gleamed brightly, and there it was the first meteor that passed making you squeak in excitement, Namjoon smiled as he looked down at your expression that seemed so excited at the flashes of light that streaked across the sky. 

Glancing at the sky Namjoon was surprised at the next few meteors that passed, and a few more before they came in dozens and dozens and soon the whole sky was lit up in light and the stars the seemed so muted before looked like gems that danced across the sky, light blues mixed with deepers shades of indigo and the streaks of white painted across the sky as he whispered, “This only happens once every few hundred years, where hundreds appear in the sky.” 

Namjoon couldn’t look at the rare sight in the sky though, not when he could look at your eyes that reflected the whole sky in them, all the stars that surfed in your gaze and your lips open in awe at the sight and for the first time in his life, he understood what that saying meant. 

‘For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream’

Namjoon would never leave your side for a single second, he pledged to himself, you’d both get through this together and you’d build a strong relationship. And he’d cherish you just as much as Kim Taehyung did, he’d devote his whole life to you if needed.” 

“Namjoon,” Your eyes looked dreamy while you turned to face him, he seemed distant as he stared at you as you gave a bashful smile, for the first time able to say what you always felt, “I love you.” 

#bts #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon angst #bts angst #namjoon imagine #taehyung angst #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #im so sorry yall #this is sad as hell

[mymegumi]

aere perrenius

pairing: akaashi keiji x gn!reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, writer!akaashi and librarian!reader

word count: 2.7k words

warnings: disgusting amounts of fluff

summary: more lasting than bronze. a once in a lifetime opportunity turns into a twice in a lifetime chance, and before you realize it, it just turns into a potential lifetime

dedicated: to miss issy ( @cafemiya ) kind beyond words, incredible beyond compare

You’d once thought that life was cruel to you, a single librarian that ended up helping children find picture books and nasty teenagers that had to pay their overdue library fees. You often just moved through the movements, walking to the library every single day, picking up coffees for everyone that worked with you that day, and nothing ever really changed.

Until today.

Today, when you walked into the coffee shop that was only a block away from the library—a small little out of the way place that served the best croissants with chocolate butter you’d ever had before—you were shocked to note that there was another singular figure in the shop with you.

Typically when you went in, it was early enough in the morning that you beat out the high schoolers and people who went to their 9-5 jobs, yet you always managed to miss the people who worked night shifts, so the barista often told you.

Today, however, there was a singular figure sitting at a table, laptop on the table with a small white mug of coffee in his hands, glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose as he seemed intent to read whatever it is was on his screen.

His hair was curling over thin golden frames, flowing over his forehead and spilling against his ears as he pressed his lips to the coffee mug, blue eyes focused on the words before him. The morning light had not yet seemed to crest the mountains of skyscrapers that littered the Japanese skyline, so the warm lights of the cafe seemed to soften the edges around him, making him angelic as he just relaxed there.

Perhaps it was the pure shock of seeing him, or even just the lack of sleep you always seemed to suffer from in the mornings following a weekend, but something led to your mistake of forgetting to conceal your admiration of him.

In your trance of adoration, you simply forget the cafe has a bell over the door.

He glances his up when he finishes taking a sip from his drink, offering a smile your way in the way that two people up way too early would share a smile with each other—as if only the two of you knew the secrets that the sunrise would whisper if only you would wake early enough to listen.

“Your usual?”

The barista, a sweet girl named Akira who seemed to be pumped full of espresso for she was way too peppy for this time of the hour, draws your attention away from the man sitting by himself at the window table.

“To go, right?” When you shake your head, she laughs slightly, inputting your usual order into the computer just for her to end up making it only a few seconds later, “What’s with the change today, you always take it straight to the library.”

When she sees you steal a glance at the mysterious stranger, she leans in with a hand cupped around her mouth, devastatingly wicked glint in her eyes as she whispers to you, “He came in a couple of minutes of go, saying he’s new in town. A writer, if you could believe it. Maybe you could warm him up to the area?”

“I have to go to work soon,” you hiss back softly, feeling the warmth take over your cheeks as you resolutely refuse to look back at him in case he heard her gossiping.

“Yet, you’re taking your coffee here?”

She, unfortunately, raises her eyebrows suggestively at you as she slides your drink to you in a small white mug resting on a dish, steaming and hot with a less heated croissant on a separate dish. You make a noise of disbelief as you carefully adjust your bag on your shoulder, taking your breakfast with you to a seat, not too close to the writer and yet not too far away that you are unable to admire him.

Pulling out a book from your bag, you are content to just read and settle in for a few minutes that you would normally spend in the library doing random work until the doors unlocked. It’s a newer novel you’d just picked up from a bookstore, and it was only because the author would be visiting the library soon, so you wanted to get a feel for the writing style, in case there were any questions that the people had for the staff.

“A good read, is it?”

You don’t really register that anyone is talking to you, at first, instead intent on just reading In Regards to Aces before it clicks in your mind two facts; one, that you are indeed holding a book and reading, and two, that you are only one of three people in the establishment, not to mention one of the three was just a barista making herself a coffee.

When it hits you that the stupidly attractive man at the window is indeed talking to you, you shove a bookmark in the spot you were reading as you turn to him, “Ah, yeah, it is, though I don’t have much to say on it considering I just started reading it.”

“Initial thoughts, then?” His smile soothes you a bit, making you relax from the initial tension you’d felt, “I’ve found the author tends to use verbiage that rambles on, but that’s my own opinion on it.”

“Well, from what I have read so far,” you set the book on the table, star embellished cover twinkling in the lights of the cafe, “I like the way that the author describes the character’s feelings—it felt really authentic, and added to the atmosphere for the story.”

“Well, just wait until you read the ending,” he raises an eyebrow at you and a playful look comes across his face for a second before disappearing, “it’s a real gutwrencher, honestly, I’m surprised the author had decided to take it in that direction.”

“Well, hopefully I’ll be able to read a good part of it before the end of the day,” you muse, hand running idly along the edges of the pages, “I’m hoping to be able to talk to the author during the meet and greet later today at the library.”

He makes a thoughtful noise, a small content smile on his face as he sets his mug down on the saucer. There’s a look in his eyes, something that says that he knows something that you don’t, and yet when you go to ask about it, he says instead, “Tell me what you think of it when you finish it, I’d love to hear your thoughts on it.”

You watch as he begins to pack up his things, tucking the laptop away into a sleek black backpack, all while sipping gingerly on your drink, “Of course, perhaps I’ll see you again, I’m usually here before work.”

“I look forward to it.”

He shoots you a smile over his shoulder as he leaves the cafe, throwing away his things and setting aside his dishes before he exits. Watching him walk down the street, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Gosh,” Akira’s voice makes you jump in your seat slightly, “he was really pretty; you think he was a model?”

“I don’t know, but he could be if he wanted to be,” you smile to yourself as you check your phone, swearing as you realize you might be a few minutes late, “I gotta get to work, I’ll see you tomorrow morning!”

Chugging the rest of your drink, of which has cooled significantly, you end up rushing out of the door of the coffee shop, leaving a good tip for Akira before you go.

A meet-cute. Is that what that would’ve been considered?

Walking into the library, you have a dopey smile on your lips, and the meeting from the morning lets you float your way through work as if your feet haven’t touched the ground.

The writer meet and greet wasn’t for another few hours so when you were putting books back on the shelves, and when the flow of people tended to slow down, your nose was tucked gently into the pages of the book you’d picked up.

It was wonderfully written, with words that seemed to suck you in and captivate you, unable to truly pay attention to what you needed to be doing. You were so ecstatic to be meeting the author, to be able to see what sort of person they’d turned out to be.

They had been pretty secretive, declining interviews left and right and no one has been able to figure out who they were. No one really knew if Akaashi Keiji was their real name, or just a pen name either, a ghost writer who wanted to leave their mark on the world without claiming any credit for the impression they’d leave behind.

Truth be told, it was something you admired in them.

There was something special about someone wanting to create something, and yet walking about their daily life knowing that not a single person would recognize them for it. They weren’t doing it for fame, or for money, but because they truly enjoyed writing and creating books for people to enjoy.

“If you keep yourself in that book, you’ll never get these shelves done,” shit, you’d thought you tucked yourself far enough into the autobiography section that your coworker, Kaori, wouldn’t be able to find you, “what book is it this time?”

“In Regards to Aces…”

She raises an eyebrow at you, glancing at the big poster of the book’s cover displayed only a few feet away from the pair of you, “Uh-huh, gonna suck up to the writer? Get you a rich, anonymous sugar daddy?”

“Pft,” you smile at her with a crooked grin, “let’s be inclusive here, we don’t know if they identify as a guy, Kaori.”

She shrugs a shoulder at you as you begin to push the cart filled with returned books into the aisle, making your way to the front of the library, “Actually, Akaashi and I went to high school together. When he got famous, everyone at our school, like, made a silent pact to respect his privacy.”

“You know the Akaashi Keiji?” You give her an incredulous look, feet planting firmly in front of the help desk of the library, “As in, coming to our library, has won multiple National Book Awards in a row for their novels Akaashi Keiji?”

“Yeah,” she picks something off of her shirt with a sour look on her face, “I’m pretty sure Bokuto threatened a guy that said he’d leak Akaashi’s school name, but it might’ve been the whole group of them, honestly.”

“Bokuto…” you look at her with a bewildered look in your eyes, “Bokuto Koutarou, MSBY wing spiker, Bokuto?”

“Yeah,” she smiles brightly at you, which you quickly erase with a hand smacking her firmly in the arm, “Oh my god, what was that for?!”

“For not telling me you were surrounded by future celebrities in high school?!”

“Oh, as if there isn’t one person from your school that got famous,” Kaori levels a glare at you as she rubs her arm.

The pair of you are sitting at the reception area now at the front of the library, watching people flow into the seating area set up for the meet and greet. A copy of the book’s cover is set up next to the author’s seat, which is on a small raised platform behind a small red barrier.

“I’m pretty sure a kid in the grade above me moved to Argentina?” She laughs at your answer, a hand over her mouth as someone steps up to the desk, taking both of your attention away from the conversation, “Hey, how can we help yo— oh! Hi, again, how are you?”

Standing before you, straps of his backpack slipping off of his shoulders and glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. There’s a little bit of a smile on his lips as he sighs, “Oh. Hello, I’m good. I rushed here because I was worried about being late—Kaori?”

“Akaashi,” she smiles at him, hand reaching out to shake his hand easily as you stare at the both of them flabbergasted, “Didn’t you get my text earlier about you coming to the library?”

“No, I was busy with the moving vans,” he turns his gaze on you and you swear your mouth dries up a little bit, “After I got a cup of coffee, I was arguing with the movers about a van of stuff that got lost. Turns out they were on the wrong side of town.”

“You mean to tell me,” you interrupt, hand coming up to stop Kaori from speaking, eyes trained on the wavy-haired man in front of you, “that you asked for my opinion on your book? Your own book?”

He gives a cheeky grin, teeth showing as he raises an eyebrow, “It’s easier to hear honest opinions if people don’t know I’m the author.”

You roll your eyes at him before he turns back to Kaori for a quick second, “Kaori, would you mind getting me some water, oh and maybe even a snack?”

She nods easily, hair swishing lightly as she pats you on the back and leaves, “‘Course, meet you up on the stage, bigshot.”

When she leaves, there’s a bit of an awkward silence, something like you don’t know what to say, and yet you know if you were to say anything, something might change. It’s only a feeling, but you suddenly want to spend as much time with this man as possible.

Now in the late afternoon light, you study him in a way you didn’t get to before. The warm sunlight that filters in through the windows makes his hair seem a bit light, but still just as unruly as it was this morning. His eyes are inquisitive, sharp in a way that observes and analyzes all within a moment’s notice.

There are patches of red and blue light dancing along his shoulders, refractions from the sun through the stained glass windows. His shirt is a little wrinkled but otherwise neat, one of the sides untucked as his loose tie hangs from around his neck.

He’s even prettier in the daylight, you decide.

“I’m sorry lied to you this morning,” his voice drops a little bit, inflection careful as he looks at you, “I promise I won’t lie to you anymore, if that means anything.”

“Well, if I catch wind of you lying,” you start, sidestepping the swinging door of the counter to start walking towards the stage area, “I’ll make your life a living nightmare, I know where you get your coffee, sir.”

“Oh, not the coffee,” He holds his hands up in surrender, “I loved their dark roast, where else in the town am I supposed to get it?”

“That, mister, sounds like a you problem,” you want to see him smile more, is the first thing you think when he laughs, “but only if you get on my bad side.”

“Do you think going out for dinner sometime might put me on your good side?”

There are moments in life that can shatter and alter the way that you think and perceive things for the future. For instance, that one time a teacher had given you a recommendation on a book had jumpstarted your love of reading which had turned into a job with lovely friends. If not for that one teacher, who knew where you would be now, because life is funny and doesn’t work out the way you think it will when things aren’t set exactly in motion.

This is one of those moments, and you know it is, because as he asks you out on, assumably, on a date, you envision a life for yourself.

A life filled with moments and snapshots with Akaashi Keiji at your side. He kisses your cheek one morning as you both make coffee for each other, his hand is warm on the small of your back as he leads you through the grocery store, and his voice is loving as he whispers to you at night before you fall asleep.

Now, you’ve always been somewhat a romantic, but you think this is the first time you’ve ever envisioned a life like this upon a second meeting. As Akaashi waits for your response, face neutral but content, you smile to yourself.

“Yeah,” you respond, leaning close to bump your shoulder against his gently, “I think getting dinner might boost your standings with me.”

#akaashi keiji fanfiction #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi keiji x you #akaashi x you #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji #hq!! akaashi #hq!! fluff #haikyuu!! akaashi #haikyuu!! fluff #grind for the wealth

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (2)

(So there are Journal Entries that are supposed to go with these fics, but I’ll admit they’re not as details haha. It’s up to you if you wanna read them or not, but please enjoy this chapter either way!)

Ch.1 / Ch.3

Chapter 2: Looming Support

Marinette bustled down the last few steps to the bakery and made a mad dash for the door. She should arrive at Rosemary right on time- for once in her life -but Felix was supposed to be meeting her there since they shared their first class together, and his demeanor gave her the impression that he preferred to get to class early instead of right on time. 

“Oh- don’t forget you’re croissants for lunch!” Sabine called after her, causing Marinette to screech to a halt.

“Right, right, thanks Maman.” She replied hastily, nearly yanking the paper bag from Sabine’s hands.

“Careful with those! They’re fresh!” Sabine warned. 

Marinette only nodded, as it was the only thing she had time to do, and ripped open the bakery door. The school was now five blocks away instead of two, but if she started running-

“Marinette!”

All thoughts of Felix and Rosemary flooded from her mind when the chipper voice of Adrien Agreste reached her ears. 

She glanced up to see her former classmate- and former crush, for that matter -stepping out of his silver car. Her first instinct was to run, but her feet refused to move, as if they were rooted to the spot from sheer panic. Why was he here? No, nevermind. She knew why he was here. The look on his face gave it all away. That easy smile paired with those stupid, pitying eyes was a look she’d seen a thousand times before. He always wore that expression when he was about to give her another lecture on why she needed to be the bigger person and let Lila figure out the error of her ways on her own.

“Marinette, I’m so glad I caught you! I tried to visit yesterday, but Mme Sabine said you weren’t home.” 

Marinette held back a smile, knowing full well that she’d been home all evening yesterday. Her mother was such a saint.

The humor didn’t last long, though, because Adrien continued, “I wanted to talk to you about your transfer? When did you decide to change schools? You didn’t even say goodbye.”

Involuntarily, she started shifting from foot to foot. Aside from the fact that merely looking at Adrien made her immensely uncomfortable, school would be starting soon. The last thing she wanted to do was cause Felix to be late if he decided to wait for her. “A-Adrien, I really need to go.” 

His smile wavered. “Maybe I can give you a ride? I really think we should talk.”

Finally regaining command over her own two feet, Marinette shuffled a step back. “No, t-that’s alright. I don’t want to trouble you.”

Adrien stepped forward. “It’s no trouble-”

“ThanksbutIreallyhavetogonowbye-” The quick farewell shot from her lips as she tore off down the sidewalk, giving him no room to argue. She knew Adrien all too well, and she knew that he would keep her there all day if it meant persuading her into his vehicle- or anywhere private -for them to “talk”. 

Marinette turned left and right, winding through the streets and back alleyways of Paris. It wasn’t the ideal detour, but she wanted to be absolutely certain that he didn't follow her. If Adrien was willing to show up at her house, she doubted that he would hesitate to show up at her school too. 

So she ran, ignoring the burning in her legs and desperately praying that Felix wouldn’t glare at her too much for the inconvenience.

~~~~~~

Time: eight thirty-two in the morning, exactly two minutes after classes were supposed to start. 

Felix never considered being late a problem so long as it wasn’t a regular occurrence. The tardy marks that assaulted his otherwise perfect attendance, however, were a bit of a nuisance. If it had been anyone other than Marinette, he would have left as soon as the class bell resonated within these borderline cavernous halls. 

A pair of footsteps developed in the distance, faint at first. He didn’t bother turning his head until the sound grew into a loud tapping on the pavement, but what he saw surprised him. Marinette, the very girl he was waiting for, was sprinting towards him. If that wasn’t enough, she ran right past him and into the school! Granted, she spouted something in his direction as she passed, but he certainly didn’t catch it. 

Felix, despite being thoroughly confused, followed her inside, where she was now bent over and gasping for air. 

“I’m- I’m so sorry for- for being late.” She panted, briefly glancing up as she did. He noted that her gaze was focused more on the windows than him, though.

“It happens.” He murmured, curiosity prompting him to look out the windows as well. A few cars passed, but nothing out of the ordinary. What was she looking for?

“You’re not mad?” She huffed, flicking her eyes to the window again and taking a step to the right. Was she trying to hide from something? 

Felix frowned. “No, but we should get to class. Getting detention on your first day isn’t the best first impression.” 

Marinette nodded, drawing in one last breath and straightening. “Okay.. History’s first, right?” 

“Correct. They’ve already started, though, so we’ll need to be discrete.” 

She pulled a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s only the first class of the day. Once the next class starts, our schedules will right themselves, and our lateness will be forgotten.” 

-

And it was. By the time Felix met up with the others for lunch a few hours later, Marinette was bright and cheery and not nearly as distressed as she had been that morning. He idly wondered what could have caused so much panic for her, but it wasn’t his business to ask. They’d only known each for a day, after all. If she wanted to tell him about her problems, she would.

“Ready to go, Mari?” Allegra asked, looping her arm with Marinette’s. “The restaurant is a bit far so I’m gonna have you ride with me, if you don’t mind.”

“We’re going to a restaurant?” 

“Yeah, where else would we go?” Claude replied.

A soft “oh” passed Marinette’s lips, and she looked down at the small, pink package in her hands. “I, um.. I thought we were just going to eat at the park or something, so I brought my own lunch.”

“That’s alright!” Allegra smiled. “We’ll just go to a cafe instead. I know this outdoor one a few minutes from here that has the most splendid pastries.”

“Are you sure-”

“Of course we’re sure.” Allegra insisted, waving off Marinette’s concerns as they walked outside. “This lunch is for you, after all.”

Her bluebell eyes blew wide at the information. “For me?”

“It’s our way of celebrating a new member of the group.” Allan casually explained.

“Felix didn’t get a lunch since we already have to drag him by the ankles to everything else we do.” Claude added with a smirk.

Felix rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t disagree. They really did jump through a lot of hoops to hang out with him. Why the trio went through so much trouble, he’ll never know.

Marinette, however, giggled at the knowledge and stole a glance in his direction.

Feeling as if he should acknowledge her look, he leaned towards her and murmured, “You can still run. The ‘initiation lunch’ hasn’t started yet.”

She put a hand over her mouth to stifle her increased laughter. “I think I’ll take my chances.” 

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Suit yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

-

Fifteen minutes later, they were all climbing out of their respective cars- Marinette hopping out with Allegra -and deciding which table to steal for the half hour they had left. Claude jumped to a circular table near the edge of the street because it “had more sun”. Since no one else had a specific preference, they followed along behind him.

“We try to make it a point to have lunch together whenever we can.” Allegra said to Marinette as they sat down. “Usually, we get to have one at least once a week.”

“Felix always tries to escape, but struggle is futile when Allegra is involved.” Claude whispered to the ravenette. The fact that he had to lean all the way across the table to do so, however, caused everyone to hear it anyway.

Allegra pulled a cheeky smile, not even denying the comment. She knew how ruthless she could be when she wanted something, and it was a trait that she held in high esteem.

Marinette, once again, fell into a small fit of giggles. Felix found that he rather enjoyed hearing her laugh, which was surprising. People who laughed at every other word in a conversation usually irritated him. They were either looking for his approval or just had dreadful, snorty laughs in general. Not hers, though. Something about Marinette’s laugh reminded him of tinkling bells or pure sunshine. It almost made him want to laugh along with her. 

“How long have you all been friends?” Marinette asked curiously, resting her elbows on the table and her chin on the back of her folded hands. 

Allegra was the first to answer. “Claude, Allan, and I have been friends since childhood, but Felix was roped into joining us a little over two years ago.”

A waitress came by to take their orders for drinks and food, but after she left, Marinette continued the conversation.

“It’s cool that you all have stayed such good friends over the years. At my other school, I somehow got put in the same class of people for six years straight, but..” She trailed off, her smile fading slightly. 

“But what?” Felix prompted, ignoring the surprised look the others gave him. 

If someone had told him yesterday that he’d be asking a random girl about her troubles, he would have said they were ridiculous, or better yet, not responded at all. When it came down to it, Felix wasn’t a sensitive or compassionate person. 

And yet, here he was, asking Marinette to continue addressing her woes- and they were woes. No one looked that depressed when thinking about cherished memories. -for a simple life story. Felix wanted to know what made her tick, how she became the person she was today. He couldn’t do that with the scarce information that he currently possessed. If she was close to telling them something important, why waste the opportunity?

Marinette’s eyes met his, also holding a bit of shock.

“But..” She repeated, casting her gaze downwards and lowering her hands. “I guess being childhood friends wasn’t enough to keep us from drifting apart.”

The table fell silent. 

Even as the waitress came back with their drinks, even though Claude- who usually never shut up -was sitting right there, the table fell silent. It was one of those moments, Felix supposed, that had to be silent, to reflect on the grief that hung so heavily in Marinette’s words.

Finally, Allan put his hand on hers. “We’re here for you.” 

The statement was soft, but strong and filled with sincerity. Allegra and Claude reached forward and grabbed her hand as well, showing their shared support.

Marinette put her free hand on top of theirs, her eyes glistening with tears, but her smile warm and grateful. “Thank you.”

Although Felix didn’t partake in the handholding, he offered her a meaningful look. “I told you: once the ‘initiation lunch’ is started, you’re stuck here.” 

A choked laugh came from her, and she wiped away a single, stray tear. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

~~~~~~

Marinette popped the last bite of her meal into her mouth and started balling up the wrappers and dirtied napkins to put them back in her lunchbox so she could throw them away later. She’d decided to wait until the others got their meals from the cafe before eating her prepared lunch, which resulted in a time crunch that required her to somewhat scarf down her food. Marinette didn’t mind it, though. Allegra moved their entire lunch date to another location in an effort to accommodate her. The least she could do was wait an extra ten or twenty minutes before eating. 

“What is that heavenly smell?” Claude asked, going so far as to stand from his seat slightly.

Marinette, who had just taken out her mother’s croissants, smiled. “Maman packed me fresh croissants from our bakery this morning.” 

“You have a bakery??” Claude asked next, rising further from his seat.

Allegra swatted at his arm. “Claude, behave yourself. We’re in public.”

The brunette sat down immediately, but his eyes remained on Marinette. Or rather, the paper bag she was holding. 

Marinette giggled. “Yes, about five blocks from Rosemary.” She then opened the bag and fished out a croissant. “Would you like to try one?”

“Absolutely!” Claude said, almost urgently, as he shot out of his seat to grab the offered food.

“Claude!” Allegra hissed.

Instantly, he sat down again, reminding Marinette of a hyperactive, yet well-trained puppy. She couldn’t help grinning at the sight.

“They’re chocolate flavored.” Marinette informed as she handed it to him. “We also have a cheese-filled one, but I don’t have any of those today.”

Claude didn’t hesitate to take a bite of the croissant, and she watched with an amused smile as his entire being seemed to melt into the chair. 

“Is it really that good?” Allegra inquired, reaching up to take a piece.

Claude jerked away, clutching the croissant to his chest as if it were a priceless heirloom. “No! She gave it to me!”

Allegra lips pressed into a thin, impatient line. “I just want one little piece.”

He shook his head. “Get your own croissant.” 

“Claude-”

Before she could argue any further, Claude shoved the entire croissant into his mouth. 

“Claude!” Allegra cried, both annoyed and concerned at the same time.

“I have more!” Marinette rushed to say, not wanting the conflict to worsen. Thankfully, the two turned back to her. 

“Maman packed a few extras since she knew that I was eating with you guys.” She explained, taking out another croissant.

Allan put a hand to his heart jokingly. “Aw~, you talk about us?”

A light blush dusted her cheeks, and she handed Allegra the croissant. “Well, you four are definitely a memorable group.”

“We wouldn’t be fun if we weren’t.” Claude winked, taking another croissant himself. It was actually Marinette’s croissant, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. His giddiness as he bit into the breaded treat was too good to ruin. Besides, she could always snag another one when she got home.

Allan hummed with pleasure next to her. “How did you make them so fluffy?”

“Maybe you guys can come over sometime to find out.” Marinette suggested with a smile. They’d taken her to lunch, so it seemed only fitting to invite them to her house as thanks.

Claude immediately brightened. “Can we really?”

She giggled. “I don’t see why not. I’m sure Maman and Papa would even teach you how to make the croissants yourselves if you’re nice enough.”

“Girl, you just say the word. I will be the epitome of nice.”

A round of laughter spread amongst the group. As if Claude could be anything but chaotic for more than a few minutes.

“We would love to come over.” Allegra said, still holding a wry smile from Claude’s comment.

Marinette beamed. “Great! I’ll see when Maman has a free day.”

A beeping sound cut into the conversation, and Felix glanced down at his watch. “Time’s up. We need to get back to the school for our next class.”

“You have a timer?” Marinette asked, purely curious, as they all started getting up.

“Felix always has a timer.” Claude interjected.

Felix sent him a glare. “It’s a practical thing to do. If I didn’t set a timer, we would all be expelled by now for being late to class too often.”

“He has a point.” Allegra allowed, pulling her purse onto her shoulder.

Claude shot her a betrayed look. “Don’t side with him!” 

Allegra merely shrugged in response. “We’ll see you guys back at school.” 

“We?” 

Allegra made a small gesture between herself and Marinette. “We’re riding together, remember?”

Claude straightened. “Hey, that’s not fair! You got to ride with her on the way here.”

Allegra rose a brow. “Your point?”

Claude flailed his arms, as if it were obvious. “So it’s my turn to drive her.”

“Your turn?” Allegra scoffed. “She’s a human being, not some object to be thrown around!”

“Says the person who gets to drive her.” Claude retorted. 

Allegra narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Why don’t we let Marinette decide who she rides with?”

An involuntary squeak escaped Marinette’s lips as the two turned to her. 

“Oh, um, well-”

Felix’s sigh cut her off. “Enough. I’ll drive her.” 

Claude’s jaw dropped open.

Allegra blinked. 

Marinette just stared at him, vaguely aware of Allan smirking approvingly next to her.

“If that’s alright with you.” Felix added, breaking their stunned silence.

“O-Oh! Uh, yes. That’s fine.” Marinette replied unthinkingly. 

He nodded. “Good. Let’s get going then.”

Marinette shuffled along behind him, sparing a quick glance to Claude and Allegra. They were still staring, though Allegra now had enough sense about her to clench her jaw from displeasure. 

She managed to give them both an apologetic look before Felix led her around the corner to where his car was parked. 

He helped her in, then got in himself and ordered the driver to take them back to school. 

~~~~~~

Felix stared out the car window as he tapped his index finger against his thigh. They were alone now. Just him and Marinette. This situation provided a million opportunities. He could ask her more questions about her old school, or her home life, or how she was enjoying the school so far. If she assumed that he was prodding, she might clam up, though. So he should probably choose one subject for the time being. Which question was most important? Which would give him the most information?

His finger started tapping faster in thought. Her old school seemed to be a touchy subject. That would be shut down quickly. She’s also extended an invitation to her house. Any questions he asked about that would be answered eventually anyway. That left her opinion of Rosemary Highschool, but that hardly reflected much of her personal life.

Felix checked his watch. They would be at the school in roughly five minutes, and there was no telling when they’d be alone again, what with Claude and Allegra running about. He had to ask something.

He stole a glance in her direction. Marinette was staring out the window as well, quietly twiddling her thumbs. He found that it was something she did often- fiddling, that is. It must be a coping mechanism for her anxiety. She practically couldn’t sit still during their first class after the mysterious scare she’d had that.. morning..

Felix cleared his throat. He knew what he wanted to ask her now. 

“Can I ask you something?” He began, hoping she wouldn’t be as annoyed by this as he himself would be.  

Marinette startled, whirling around to face him. “Sorry?”

“I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Oh.” She said, relaxing a bit. “Okay.”

Felix drew in a small breath. So far so good. “This morning, you ran into the school and avoided the windows for the first class period. I don’t mean to pry, but were you running from something?”

Panic flashed across her features, and her hands trailed up to mess with the tips of her jacket. “It’s.. it’s nothing, really... I guess you could say I didn’t leave my old school on good terms.”

Felix blinked. That’s an interesting reply. What did the relations of her old school have to do with her running from something? (Nevermind the fact that Marinette leaving anyone on ‘bad terms’ was shocking. She didn’t seem like the type to make enemies easily.)

“..Is someone stalking you?” He asked, somewhat thinking aloud. The way she ran into the school didn’t strike him as someone who was casually hiding from an awkward situation. If she left her school on bad terms, perhaps someone was trying to corner her for revenge?

She shook her head frantically. “No, no, no! Well.. technically yes, but ‘stalking’ is a strong word. He-”

He?

“-just wants to ‘talk’.” Her expression soured at the last word, and Felix wondered what sort of things one must talk about to have her on the brink of scowling. 

“You know we don’t mind picking you up.” He offered. It’s not his policy to involve himself in personal disputes, but Allegra would have his head if he didn’t suggest some sort of support. Plus, more car rides would provide more opportunities for him to ask questions. “If you’re worried about being followed, Allegra and Claude will probably fight tooth and nail to drive you to school too.”

Marinette shook her head again. “I really appreciate it, but that’s not necessary.”

Felix watched her for a moment, not missing the way her hands started fiddling a bit more in her lap. “Well, if you ever change your mind..”

“You’ll be the first to know.” She promised with a smile. It looked a bit forced in his opinion, but he nodded nonetheless. 

Felix supposed he should feel wary towards the new student. She hadn’t mentioned why she left her old school, though she admitted she had unnamed squabbles there. That can be considered innocent, but it can also be a skillful way to avoid consequences. As far as he knew, she could be running from her victims who decided to rally against her. 

And yet, he couldn’t help being filled with this sense of morbid curiosity. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a fashionista who appears to have a big heart and a troubled past. She lives in a bakery, yet managed to attend one of the most prestigious schools in the city- possibly the country. She’s riddled with nervousness, but every step she takes tells you that she knows exactly what she’s doing. 

Who exactly is Marinette Dupain-Cheng?

Felix couldn’t wait to find out.

Tag List: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks

#Felinette #Felix Culpa #Marinette #Quantic Kids #Rosemary AU #New Girl on the Block

[yoshi-self-ships]

Shuichi: Hewwo.

Kokichi: Hihiiiiii!

Kiibo: Greetings, Humans.

Rantaro: Three kinds of people.

Kaito: I want pudding.

Shuichi: Four kinds of people.

Miu: WHAT’S UP FUCKERS?

Rantaro: Five kinds of people.

Shuichi, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here.

Kokichi: Hey.

Kiibo: Hi.

Kaito: Hello.

Rantaro: Hey!

Shuichi: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only!

Miu: We were out of Doritos.

Kiibo: Would you guys be there for me if I was going through something?

Shuichi: Nope, absolutely not.

Kokichi: I hope it sucks, whatever you're going through.

Kaito: I hope it emotionally scars you for the rest of your life.

Rantaro: I hope you reach out to me so I can ignore you.

Miu: I can't wait to go to your funeral, knowing I could've changed that outcome.

Miu: Dumbest scar stories, go!

Kokichi: I burned my tongue once drinking tea.

Shuichi: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it.

Kaito: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade.

Rantaro: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn.

Kiibo:

Kiibo: I have emotional scars.

Kaito: Just be yourself.

Kokichi: 'Be myself'? Kaito, I have one day to win Rantaro over. How long did it take before you guys started liking me?

Shuichi: Couple weeks.

Kiibo: Six months.

Miu: Jury’s still out.

Kokichi: See, Kaito?

Kokichi: 'Be myself'. What kind of garbage advice is that?

Shuichi: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous.

Kaito: What if it bites me and it dies!?

Kokichi: Then you’re poisonous. Jesus Christ, Kaito, learn to listen.

Kiibo: What if it bites itself and I die?

Miu: That’s voodoo.

Rantaro: What if it bites me and someone else dies?

Kaito: That’s correlation, not causation.

Kiibo: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die?

Miu: That’s kinky.

Shuichi: Oh my God.

Shuichi: Croissants: dropped

Kokichi: Road: works ahead

Miu: BBQ sauce: on my titties

Kaito: Shavacado: fre

Rantaro: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead

Kiibo:

Kiibo, grumpy: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

Miu: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat?

Kokichi: >:O language

Kiibo: Yeah watch your fucking language

Kaito: OKAY WHO TAUGHT KIIBO THE FUCK WORD?

Shuichi: 'The fuck word'.

Rantaro: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time

Kiibo: Oh my god they censored it

Shuichi: Say fuck, Rantaro.

Kiibo: Do it, Rantaro. Say fuck.

Shuichi: I CAN'T DO IT!

Miu, laughing: I CAN'T EITHER!

Shuichi: I CANT FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE

Kiibo: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US.

Shuichi:

Shuichi: I appreciate it,

Shuichi: BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH-

Kaito: Shuichi-

Shuichi: YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE!

Rantaro: Shuichi we gotta-

Shuichi: YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT.

Shuichi: YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?'

Shuichi, motioning to Kokichi: NOT FUCKING THIS

*Squad reactions to being told ‘I love you’*

Kaito: Thanks fam!

Rantaro: oh no

Shuichi: *cries* I love you too

Kokichi: Sounds fake but okay

Kiibo: *A flustered mess*

Miu: can i get a refund

(Part 1, part 2, part 4)

#incorrect danganronpa quotes #incorrect quotes #danganronpa #miu iruma #rantaro amami #kaito momota #Shuichi Saihara #Kokichi ouma #Kiibo #keebo #mod yoshi posts #long post

[satansjit]

Reflections on the Color of My Skin

By Neil DeGrasse Tyson

Wednesday, June 3, 2020

My colleague had other encounters with the law that he shared later that night, but his first story started a chain reaction among us. One by one we each recalled multiple incidents of being stopped by the police. None of the accounts were particularly violent or life-threatening, although it was easy to extrapolate to highly publicized cases that were. One of my colleagues had been stopped for driving too slowly. He was admiring the local flora as he drove through a New England town in the autumn. Another had been stopped because he was speeding, but only by five miles per hour. He was questioned and then released without getting a ticket. Still another colleague had been stopped and questioned for jogging down the street late at night.

As for me, I had a dozen different encounters to draw from. There was the time I was stopped late at night at an underpass on an empty road in New Jersey for having changed lanes without signaling. The officer told me to get out of my car and questioned me for ten minutes around back with the headlights of his squad car brightly illuminating my face. Is this your car? Yes. Who is the woman in the passenger seat? My wife. Where are you coming from? My parent’s house. Where are you going? Home. What do you do for a living? I am an astrophysicist at Princeton University. What’s in your trunk? A spare tire, and a lot of other greasy junk. He went on to say that the “real reason” why he stopped me was because my car’s license plates were much newer and shinier than the 17-year-old Ford that I was driving. The officer was just making sure that neither the car nor the plates were stolen.

Among my other stories, I had been stopped by campus police while transporting my home supply of physics textbooks into my newly assigned office in graduate school. They had stopped me at the entrance to the physics building where they asked accusatory questions about what I was doing. It was 11:30 p.m. Open-topped boxes of graduate math and physics textbooks filled the trunk. And I was transporting them into the building, which left me wondering how often that scenario shows up in police training videos.

We went on for two more hours. But before we retired for the night we searched for common denominators among the stories. We had all driven different cars—some were old, others were new, some were undistinguished, others were high performance imports. Some police stops were in the daytime, others were at night. Taken one-by-one, each encounter with the law could be explained as an isolated incident where, in modern times, we all must forfeit some freedoms to ensure a safer society for us all. Taken collectively, however, you would think the cops had a vendetta against physicists because that was the only profile we all had in common. In this parade of automotive stop-and-frisks, one thing was for sure, the stories were not singular, novel moments playfully recounted. They were common, recurring episodes. How could this assembly of highly educated scientists, each in possession of the PhD—the highest academic degree in the land—be so vulnerable to police inquiry in their lives? Maybe the police cued on something else. Maybe it was the color of our skin. The conference I had been attending was the 23rd meeting of the National Society of Black Physicists. We were guilty not of DWI (Driving While Intoxicated), but of other violations none of us knew were on the books: DWB (Driving While Black), WWB (Walking While Black), and of course, JBB (Just Being Black).

None of us were beaten senseless. None of us were shot. But what does it take for a police encounter to turn lethal? On average, police in America kill more than 100 unarmed black people per year. Who never made it to our circle? I suspect our multi-hour conversation would be rare among most groups of law-abiding people.

As I compose this, about 10,000 chanting protestors are filing past my window in Manhattan. And because of the intermittent looting and related violence, the curfew for this evening has been pushed earlier, to 8 p.m., from 11 p.m. in the preceding days. The most common placard was “Black Lives Matter.” Many others simply displayed the name George Floyd, who was handcuffed face-down on the street with a police officer’s knee on the back of his neck, applied with a force of at least half the officer’s body weight, resulting in his death. Curious irony that NFL star Colin Kaepernick offered a simple demonstration of care and concern for the fate of black people in the custody of police officers, by taking a knee during the Star Spangled Banner before football games. (One media outlet mangled the moment by describing him as protesting the national anthem.) The outrage against his silent act of concern for a national problem persisted through the 2017 season when, as a free agent, he went unsigned by any team to continue his livelihood.

So, we went from a peaceful knee to the ground to a fatal knee to the neck.

The way peaceful protesters and the press are being shoved, maced, tear-gassed, pepper-sprayed, and tackled in the streets of our cities (when the police should have focused on arresting the looters) you would think the protestors were doing something illegal or un-American. But, of course, the U.S. Constitution has something to say about it:

Congress shall make no law … abridging the freedom … of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

Which amendment was that? The First Amendment. So, the founders of this nation felt quite strongly about it, empowering one to declare that protesting for redress of grievances is one of the most American things you can do. If you are the police, pause and reflect how great is the country whose Constitution endorses peaceful protests.

What do we actually expect from our police officers? To protect the peace and arrest the bad guys, I presume. But also, to be armed with lethal force that they can use when necessary. That part clearly requires training on how and when to use (and not use) the power of your weapons. The rigorous Minneapolis Police Academy training lasts 4 months. The slightly more rigorous NYC Police Academy lasts 6 months.

Yet to become a certified pastry chef at a prestigious culinary academy requires 8 months. The perfect croissant demands it. So maybe, just maybe, police recruits could benefit from a bit more training before becoming officers.

In 1991, Rodney King (age 25) was struck dozens of times, while on the ground, by four LAPD officers, with their batons, after being tased. The grainy 1990s video of that went media-viral, inducing shock and dismay to any viewer.

But I wasn’t shocked at all.

Based on what I already knew of the world, my first thought was, “We finally got one of those on tape.” Followed by, “Maybe justice will be served this time.” Yes, that’s precisely my first thought. Why? Since childhood my parents instilled in me and my siblings, via monthly, sometimes weekly lessons, rules of conduct to avoid getting shot by the police. “Make sure that when you get stopped, the officer can always see both of your hands.” “No sudden movements.” “Don’t reach into your pockets for anything without announcing this in advance.” “When you move at all, tell the officer what you are about to do.” At the time, I am a budding scientist in middle school, just trying to learn all I can about the universe. I hardly ever think about the color of my skin—it never comes up when contemplating the universe. Yet when I exit my front door, I’m a crime suspect. Add to this the recently coined “White Caller Crime,” where scared white people call the police because they think an innocent black person is doing something non-innocent, and it’s a marvel that any of us achieve at all.

The rate of abuse? Between one and five skin-color-instigated incidents per week, for every week of my life. White people must have known explicitly if not implicitly of this struggle. Why else would the infamous phrase, “I’m free, white, and 21” even exist? Here is a compilation of that line used in films across the decades. Yes, it’s offensive. But in America, it’s also truthful. Today’s often-denied “white privilege” accusation was, back then, openly declared.

The deadly LA riots associated with the Rodney King incident are often remembered as a response to the beating. But no. Los Angeles was quiet for 13 months afterward. Everyone had confidence, as did I, that the video was just the kind of evidence needed to finally bring about a conviction in the abuse of power. But that’s not what came to pass. The riots were a response to the acquittal of the four officers in the incident, and not to the incident itself. And what is a riot if not the last act of helpless desperation.

The 1989 film by Spike Lee “Do the Right Thing,” which explored 1980s black-white-police tensions in Brooklyn, New York, ends with a dedication to the families of six people. Eleanor Bumpers (age 66), Michael Griffith (age 23), Arthur Miller (age 30), Edmund Perry (age 17), Yvonne Smallwood (age 28), and Michael Stewart (age 25). All are black. One was killed by a white mob. The rest were unarmed and shot by police or otherwise died while in police custody. All deaths occurred within the 10 years preceding film, and all occurred in New York City. None of the police-induced deaths resulted in convictions, as continues to be true for 99% of all police killings.

We know of these events because they each ended in death. But even so, back then, it was just local news. Was this just NYC’s problem? I asked myself. But for every police-related death anywhere, how many unarmed victims are shot by police and don’t die, or are wrongfully maimed or injured? Most of those cases didn’t even make the local news. But if you lived there, you knew. We all knew. For what it’s worth, NYC now has the lowest police-caused death rate per capita among the sixty largest cities in the US. Is it that extra two months training in the Police Academy?

The corrosion and ultimate erosion of our confidence in the legal system in cases such as these, even in the face of video evidence, has spawned a tsunami of protests. With sympathetic demonstrations across the United States and around the world. If the threat of prison time for this behavior does not exist—acting as a possible deterrent—then the behavior must somehow stop on its own.

Some studies show that the risk of death for an unarmed person at the hands of the police is approximately the same no matter the demographics of who gets arrested. Okay. But if your demographic gets stopped ten times more than others, then your demographic will die at ten times the rate. I suppose we first have to get the bias factor down to zero, but then there’s still the matter of police killing unarmed suspects, white people included.

I talk a lot. But I don’t talk much about any of this, or the events along this path-of-most-resistance that have shaped me. Why? Because throughout my life I’ve used these occasions as launch-points to succeed even more. Yes, I parlayed the persistent rejections of society, which today might be called micro-aggressions, into reservoirs of energy to achieve. I learned that from my father, himself active in the Civil Rights Movement during the 1950s and 1960s.

In a way, I am who I am precisely because countless people, by their actions or inactions, said I could never be what I am. But what if you don’t have this deep supply of fuel? What becomes of you? Who from historically disenfranchised communities, including women, LGBTQ+, and anybody of color, are missing—falling shy of their full potential because they ran out of energy and gave up trying.

Are things better today than yesterday? Yes. But one measure of this truth is a bit perverse. Decades ago, unarmed black people getting beaten or killed by the police barely merited the local news. But now it’s national news—even breaking news—no matter where in the country it occurs.

So how to change all this? Organizations have surely assembled demands for police departments. Here, I offer a list of my own, for policy experts to consider:

Extend police academies to include months of cultural awareness and sensitivity training that also includes how not to use lethal force.

Police officers should all be tested for any implicit bias they carry, with established thresholds of acceptance and rejection from the police academy. We all carry bias. But most of us do not hold the breathing lives of others in our hands when influenced by it.

During protests, protect property and lives. If you attack nonviolent protesters you are being un-American. And you wouldn’t need curfews if police arrested looters and not protesters.

If fellow officers are behaving in a way that is clearly unethical or excessively violent, and you witness this, please stop them. Someone will get that on video, and it will give the rest of us confidence that you can police yourselves. In these cases, our trust in you matters more to a civil society than how much you stick up for each other.

And here’s a radical idea for the Minneapolis Police Department—why not give George Floyd the kind of full-dress funeral you give each other for dying in the line of duty? And vow that such a death will never happen again.

Lastly, when you see black kids, think of what they can be rather than what you think they are.

Respectfully Submitted

Neil deGrasse Tyson — trying hard to Keep Looking Up.

Copyright © 2018 Neil deGrasse Tyson

#neil degrasse tyson #reflections on the color of my skin #reflections #black lives matter #justiceforfloyd #blm movement #blm #support blm #science #george floyd #justice for black lives #justice for poc #no justice no peace #know justice know peace #white silence is violence #physics #amerikkka #blacklivesmatter

[spencers-renaissance]

You Said You’d Never Smile Again

Summary: “At one point, we had a conversation about how hard Spencer was finding life after prison and he told me that he didn’t think he’d ever smile again. And so, I made it my mission to prove Dr Spencer Reid wrong for the first time in his life.”

Tags: weddings, speeches, tooth-rotting fluff, insecure luke, post-prison spencer, implied/referenced depression, crying, found family 

Pairing: Luke Alvez x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Spencer’s never looked more beautiful, Luke thinks, as they sit in the botanical hall of this ancient museum on their wedding day surrounded by everybody they love so dearly. They’d decided to have Emily officiate, neither of them desiring their relationship to have anything to do with a Church, and had read their vows to one another stood under an arch threaded with ivy and Spencer’s favourite flowers. An elegant gold band settles around his fourth finger like it was always supposed to be there, the outward expression of his utter devotion to the love of his life. Dr and Mr Alvez-Reid.

Glancing at his husband to check he’s ready, he taps his spoon against his glass as the meal draws to a close, gaining the attention of their guests as he stands up, microphone in hand, ready to deliver his wedding speech. They’d decided to exchange simple vows and then deliver longer speeches at the reception, so he pulls out the creased piece of paper he’s folded and unfolded countless times over the past few days. His hands only shake a little bit.

“Spencer,” Luke says, because it feels like a good place to start, “when I first met you, I wasn’t sure how I was going to survive at the BAU working alongside someone as breathtaking and irresistible as you, not being able to do anything about it. Well, thankfully, we both grew some balls and eventually did do something about it — obviously, since we’re stood here on our wedding day…” He’s interrupted briefly by a collective chuckle from their friends and family, and both he and Spencer can’t resist a giggle either, when they catch each other’s eye.

“But what perhaps isn’t so obvious, is just how that came about.

“As everyone here knows all too well, Spencer was falsely accused of a crime five years ago, and spent six months in prison. I won't go into it because that's not something he needs to relive on his wedding day, but thanks to the wonderful work of everyone in the BAU — who we both love so much — he was freed. When he got out, though, he, understandably, had a really hard time. At one point, we had a conversation about it and he told me that he wasn't sure he'd ever smile again.

“And so... I made it my mission to prove Dr Spencer Reid wrong for the first time in his life.”

He looks up to see the enraptured faces of his loved ones, and smiles a little at the sight of Penelope already in tears, sitting next to a fond looking Derek. Hotch and Rossi are sat next to them, looking rather appropriately like the proud father figures they are to Spencer. He’d hardly worked with Hotch before he’d had to leave for the Witness Protection Program, but when he’d met him again, this time as the boyfriend of the man he sees as another son, he’d been absolutely terrified. Thankfully, Hotch couldn’t be happier for the two of them, and Rossi had been the first to actually figure out his crush on Spencer, urging him right from the beginning to just say something.

Spencer is already teary, looking fondly up at Luke as he tells everyone just how madly in love with him he is.

He soldiers on, keeping his voice as light and steady as possible for this part of the speech. “The thing is, I'd never been very good at anything until I met Spencer. I was rubbish in school, always lagging behind, and that didn't really change when I left. I found my place in life eventually, hunting criminals — first in the Fugitive Task Force, and later in the BAU — but before then I was utterly directionless, and didn't even feel completely secure until I did join the current team.

“Spencer will confirm I can't even make toast without burning it, and I’m a completely horrible liar. As you will see when we have our first dance later, I have never in my life met a dance floor that ever did me any good. I actually can't change a flat tyre — contrary to how it might look, it's always Spencer who gets burdened with that job — and I'm useless with any sort of DIY.”

Everyone laughs again, and Luke takes it as a sign it’s going over okay so far, especially when his husband giggles wetly at the reminder of just how useless he can be at some things. It’s always amused him how incapable Luke is at making any sort of food — not that Spencer is exactly Gordon Ramsey, as he likes to point out — and the first time they’d gone out together, Spencer had enjoyed laughing fondly at his dad dance moves far more than actually dancing himself.

“Before I came to the BAU I was… insecure. I thought that I was unworthy, good for nothing, because I was absolutely terrible at so many of these general adult life skills,” he continues, a laugh in his voice as he recounts his awful thought patterns, and everyone else follows suit. “But as I said, I was determined to make Spencer smile. More than anything, I wanted the man I was slowly falling in love with to be happy again. I had no ulterior motive. I had no expectations. I had no hope for anything beyond an eventual grin.”

Penelope is officially in bits by this point, crying quietly into Derek’s shoulder, and JJ is smiling fondly as tears stream down her face too, gripping Emily’s hand tightly as both their wedding rings glint in the light flooding through the skylights in the high, beautifully decorated ceiling. They’d tied the knot the year before, a simple ceremony in a local hotel with only the team and close family in attendance. JJ had been a lifesaver during the wedding planning, knowing all the best vendors and ways to cut costs in every place possible.

He turns his attention back to his speech. “I thought long and hard about my mission. I had one last hail Mary. One boring winter morning, I woke up early enough to come in at the same time as Spencer, and I bought him a black coffee, a stack of pancakes and a croissant, and that was it. The most blindingly beautiful smile I think I've ever seen.” He can’t help but grin himself at the recollection of seeing that smile the first time, and when he looks to his left, Spencer’s expression is matching his. He directs the next line to his husband.

“And I remember exactly what I thought in that moment, the first time I made you smile: finally. Finally, something I'm good at.” Spencer’s face crumples at that, unable to contain his emotion any longer, and Luke can’t resist bending down and hooking a finger under his chin before kissing him, lips salty with tears. “I love you,” he whispers, and Spencer takes a deep breath, calming himself down enough for Luke to continue.

“Naturally, I didn't stop there and that's how we're standing here today, but if there's one thing I love about Spencer it's that since that moment, I have never felt inadequate. I have never felt not good enough, and that's because of how he makes me feel. He wakes up every day and makes me feel worth it. I don't know how I ended up with him, what brilliantly kind act I must have performed to earn this kind of karma, but he's shown me every single day that I deserve it, and if you'd asked me before that day when we ate sticky pancakes together in a virtually empty FBI building, talking about nothing and everything, I would have said I didn’t.”

He turns back to his husband, feeling his own emotion start to bubble over, as though his heart can’t hold just how much love he has for him anymore, and a tear streams down his face.

“So, Spencer, I am so grateful and still completely bewildered by how we ended up here, officially husband and husband, but I want you to know how thankful I am to you for your endless faith in me. I love you.”

And with that, Spencer’s on his feet, kissing him. “I love you so much,” Luke whispers as they pull away, bringing a thumb to Spencer’s cheek and brushing away a stray tear. “I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Well, you do,” he laughs wetly, “and I couldn’t be happier about it.”

Luke presses his forehead to Spencer’s for just a moment, looking deep into those hazel eyes he’s loved for so many years, trying as hard as he can to telepathically communicate all the love his bursting heart holds.

Spencer’s wide smile as they pull away to turn back to their guests tells him he already knows.

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez @pretty-b0yy

(@ssa-lukealvez​)

#my writing #ralvez #luke alvez #spencer reid #ralvez fic #ralvez writing #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #luke alvez/spencer reid #luke alvez x spencer reid

[kaistarus]

Enchanted

Chapter 1

Pairing: NishinoyaXReader

Word: 2.2K

Summary: When your best friend enters a relationship with a prince your life changes in ways you never thought possible. You gain new friendships, learn dangerous secrets, and discover that maybe love might exist for you after all...

A/N: This is going to be a longer project and I’m super excited for it!! :) I already have the next several chapters drafted so we’re looking good

Masterlist

Next

“I cannot believe you’re being courted by a literal prince,” you rested your chin on crossed arms, watching the crowd wandering the festival grounds-couples arm-in-arm while admiring the colorful decor hanging from trees and strung across poles, children chiming with laughter as they chased through their parent’s legs, and musicians creating a melodious tune that floated gently above the ruckus. “I have yet to find one decent man, but you get a prince.”

“You’re the one who decided to skip the town’s annual pie judging contest,” Hinata smirked down at you and your glare strengthened.

“Because it’s a stupid event. How was I supposed to know the prince would show up?”

“They were bound to let him out eventually,” Hinata leaned against the counter with a cocky smile and you clenched your fists into the material of your dress.

“I don’t think the prince would have liked you anyway,” Yachi appeared from behind a curtain holding a tray of baked goods, sliding it onto the wooden countertop, “judging by who he chose to spend time with.”

You groaned, planting your forehead onto the wood’s surface. “I’m going to be alone forever.”

“Well, you’re not exactly the kindest to anyone that tries flirting with you…” Yachi raised a dainty brow while transferring cupcakes onto a display.

“That’s because they’re all the worst,” you waved her off. “Anyone my father sets me up with is a snob.”

“I’m impressed you’ve gotten this far,” Hinata commended while overlooking the festival grounds, “that your father has not just married you off already.”

“My mother would never let him,” your nose crinkled at the concept. Regardless how difficult you became you knew that someone would have your back. “You’re lucky, Yachi. You don’t have to worry about this nonsense.”

“I suppose that is true,” Yachi smiled apologetically, holding the tray tightly to her chest and observing her display. There were various pastries-cupcakes, scones, croissants, tarts-lined up and stacked in neat patterns for viewing pleasure. “Does it look okay?

“It looks great,” you grinned.

“Are you sure?” Yachi twisted a few baked goods an unnoticeable amount. “I don’t want to let my family down.”

“They wouldn’t have put you out here if they didn’t think you were ready.” You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Besides, you have me.”

Hinata chuckled before his eyes widened in panic, hand shooting out to grip yours painfully. You whined, trying to pull him off while following his gaze to figure out what could have possibly caused such a reaction-an amused smile grew when you saw prince Kageyama entering the festival grounds.

“Oh, your prince charming has arrived,” you said with a teasing lilt. Hinata glowered at you to which you childishly stuck your tongue out in response.

“I didn’t know he would be here.”

“He surprised you,” Yachi clasped her hands together. “How romantic.”

Hinata whined in despair and you giggled at his misery, and with all the attention the prince was drawing in you had nearly missed the guard that entered the festival with him. He was dressed very casually, walking a languid pace with his hands clasped behind his head-the only thing giving him away was the weapon sheathed at his hip.

Your expression dropped, “he brought a babysitter.”

“You seriously thought they were going to let the prince walk around unprotected?”

Your shoulders slumped at the familiar condescending voice and you side-eyed the pair approaching Yachi’s family’s booth. You welcomed Yamaguchi’s warm smile any day of the week, but Tsukishima could quite frankly never come near you again and you would die happy.

“I just didn’t notice the guard,” you glared at Tsukishima’s belittling smirk. The guard didn’t exactly look anything quality the royal guard had to offer, you observed after giving him further inspection. He looked more like a last minute grab. “He doesn’t look like much protection anyway.”

“Doesn’t look like-” Yamaguchi looked between you and the guard bewildered. “That is the Guardian Deity.”

You blinked several times before your eyes widened in surprise, locking back to the guy following prince Kageyama at a comfortable pace. That was the highest ranking guard in the royal court? You crinkled your nose after giving him another once-over. After all the tales you had heard you had expected the Guardian Deity to be… bigger? More intimidating for sure.

Honestly, based on appearance, you felt like you could handle him in a fight.

“He doesn’t look very scary,” Yachi said, sounding uncertain.

“Why?” Hinata’s cheeks were puffed up in annoyance. “Is it because he’s short? What are you trying to say?”

“I think it’s more because his hair is so stupid,” Tsukishima snickered.

“I don’t think we should be mocking him,” Yamaguchi said warily, shrinking into his shoulders. “I heard he has insane hearing.”

“That sounds made up, Yams” You crossed your arms.

You glanced back at the guard and stiffened when you made direct eye-contact with him, quickly shooting your stare to your lap. Surely that was just a wild coincidence...

You heard Hinata take a shuddering breath beside you before straightening himself out, “alright, I’m going in. Wish me luck.”

A chorus of encouraging words, aside from Tsukishima, rang behind Hinata as he left the safety of your group. You tapped your fingers against the counter, unable to control your nervous jitters as Hinata noticeably stumbled over his opening lines while prince Kageyama smiled down at him-the guard clearly attempting to hold back a laugh.

The Guardian Deity had a bright smile while introducing himself and Hinata seemed to easily relax in the man’s presence, which further added to your skepticism of his identity. He didn’t fit the grand title at all.

“I guess dating a prince will be harder than we realized,” Yachi pressed a hand against her cheek thoughtfully.

“If anyone can do it Hinata can.” Yamaguchi said, reaching for a pastry before Yachi swatted it.

“It’s still unfortunate he can’t embarrass himself in peace,” you frowned, leaning your cheek in your palm while watching the guard do his best to remain straight face.

“I have an idea,” Tsukishima started with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about you go and distract the guard?”

“How about I what?”

“Hey, that’s actually not a bad idea,” Yachi added while she swatted Yamaguchi’s hand after another failed attempt at swiping a muffin.

“Are you guys not listening about how that is the Guardian Deity?” Yamaguchi gestured wildly in his direction. “You can’t just waltz over there and distract him, are you crazy?”

“Oh, so you’re saying I can’t do it?” You narrowed your eyes at him and he blinked.

“That is exactly what I just said. Yes.”

Your cheeks puffed up and you stood from your stool. “Highest ranked guard means nothing. This will be easy.”

“(Y/N) this is such a bad idea,” Yamaguchi pleaded as you walked around the stand, brushing the nonexistent dirt off your dress. “You could get in serious trouble.”

“No, she will be completely fine.” Tsukishima waved you off. “You can do it. I have complete faith in you.”

Everyone paused and slowly turned to stare at Tsukishima. Yachi began waving you back to her nervously.

“On second thought I think Yamaguchi is right. This might be a bad idea.” She frowned.

“Too late,” you sighed, pivoting toward the trio wandering around the festival. “I’ve already made up my mind.”

You marched in their direction with Tsukishima’s off putting words of encouragement echoing behind you and felt your heart pounding stronger the closer you got to the group. Once in range you caught Hinata’s confused stare, shifting between you and the guard before a knowing smile formed. You narrowed your eyes into a ‘you-owe-me’ glare and took a calming breath before standing before the Guardian Deity.

He glanced over, doing a double take once he realized you weren’t walking away. You opened your mouth, freezing up once you realized you had confidently marched over with absolutely no game plan. The Guardian Deity raised an eyebrow at your hesitation.

“Uh… hi.” You lamely stumbled out.

“Hello,” his lips quipped into a quick smirk and you felt yourself die a little inside from embarrassment.

“How is the, uh, night-how is your night going?” You clenched your fists. You needed to get yourself together before you went back a failure and gave Tsukishima an actual reason to make fun of you.

“Good,” he crossed his arms and gave you a once-over.

“Great, that’s great.” You rocked on the balls of your feet. “You always want… good nights that is very important.”

He hummed, glancing over your shoulder. “How’s your night?”

“It is a night… for sure.”

“Great. I’d be worried if it was anything else.” His eyes held a hint of amusement and if you weren’t meant to be distracting him you would be more irritated by it. He bowed slightly. “I’m Nishinoya.”

“Oh, (Y/F/N),” you returned the gesture before raising a brow. “No first name Nishinoya?”

“Unfortunately not.”

You hummed, assuming it was classified for some reason or another-likely rank. You briefly wondered what other secrets he had while subtly peeking at where Hinata had been, smirking when you didn’t see him.

You were better at this distracting thing than you thought.

“If you’re looking for your friend he and the prince snuck off to the woods,” Nishinoya threw a thumb over his shoulder. “They’re probably making out or something.”

Your shoulders stiffened and you slowly met his eyes. “You were watching them?”

“Well, that’s my job,” he glanced over your shoulder again. “Yachi and Yamaguchi look pretty impressed with your distraction skills though. Tsukishima just looks mad, but that is supposedly his default.”

Your mouth opened and closed several times before you furrowed your brow. “How do you know their names? What did you-” You covered your mouth in shock. “Oh my god, could you hear us?”

“Hear you?” He cocked his head to the side confused. “No, I had to do a background check on Hinata so Kageyama could come here.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling your face warming. You knew Yamaguchi was just saying stupid rumors. “Wait, does that mean you already knew my name?”

“No,” he said with a mischievous tone. “Even if I did it’s always better hearing it from the original source.”

You gave him a skeptical once-over. “You seem pretty bad at your job Nishinoya if you’re willingly letting the prince out of sight.” You accused and he blinked a few times before a sly smile filled his face.

“And you seem pretty rude for a Lady,” Nishinoya crossed his arms, “trying to flirt with a high-ranking guard to let your friend sneak off with a prince doesn’t fit your family’s status, does it?”

You puffed up your cheeks in annoyance. “Well, flirting with a Lady and letting the prince sneak off seems unprofessional for a high-ranking guard.”

“Except I worked out an agreement ahead of time with prince Kageyama to let him be alone with Hinata,” Nishinoya gestured toward the forest, “and I’ve been keeping an eye on them this whole time, so I am professional, contrary to your opinion.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but fell short, feeling yourself getting flustered. “So, you just let me try to distract you for no reason?”

“I like you distracting me,” he smiled, wiggling his eyebrows. “You should do it more often. It’s fun.”

You scoffed, “not a chance.”

You pivoted around and began stomping away toward your friends when he called after you, “but we barely made it past introductions.”

“I have a feeling you already know more about me than I’d like,” you shot over your shoulder and by the innocent smile he gave back you knew you were right.

“I’ll see you soon.” He waved.

“Don’t count on it,” you called back, pouting when you heard him cackle before you were out of hearing range.

“I knew you could do it!” Yachi cheered when you plopped back down into the stool beside her.

“Yeah,” you looked away with an awkward chuckle. “I told you it would be easy.”

“I don’t believe it. He probably let her do it or something,” Tsukishima rolled his eyes and you sneered at how accurate he was.

“Was he terrifying?” Yamaguchi leaned over the counter inches from your face. “Did he have super hearing? Could he shoot lightning from his sword? How fast were his reflexes? Did he tell you how he got the blonde streak? Could he-”

You pushed his face back and rolled your eyes, “no, Yams. Those were all just rumors. He’s a normal guy.”

Yamaguchi’s shoulders sagged in disappointment at your unfortunate news. You raised a brow at his pout since you never knew Yamaguchi was such a Guardian Deity fanboy.

Your eyes drifted to Nishinoya leaning lazily against a tree trunk near the entrance of the festival, eyes scouring the event. You supposed if all anyone heard were rumors it would be possible to like him, but in reality he was no different than any other guy you’d talked too-annoying and cocky.

As if he could sense your insulting thoughts his eyes flickered in your direction. You held your breath as you locked eyes with his intense amber stare, expression dropping when he relaxed into a cocky smirk. You stuck your tongue out childishly and turned back to Yachi who was helping a customer choose between a cupcake with pink or orange frosting.

You really hoped Nishinoya was wrong. You didn’t want to see him anytime soon.

#nishinoya yuu #nishinoya yu x reader #nishinoya x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #kagehina #hinata shouyou #yachi hitoka #yamaguchi tadashi #tsukishima kei #nishinoya yu

[katelyn--renee]

Out of the Fire (Part two)

Title: Out Of The Fire (Part two)

Fandom: Supernatural AU

Main Characters series: Reader, Lieutenant Firefighter!Dean Winchester, Lawyer!Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester (Moore), Nurse!Lisa Braeden (Formerly Winchester), Ben Braeden-Winchester, Harper Winchester (OFC), Charlie Bradbury, Firefighter!Benny Lafitte, Firefighter!Jo Harvelle, Firefighter!Castiel Novak, Claire Novak, Mechanic!John Winchester, Firefighter Captain!Ellen Harvelle, Mechanic!Bobby Singer, Doctor!Arthur Ketch, Nick Vaught and many more!

Pairings: Dean x Reader (eventual), Dean x Lisa (past), Reader x Nick (past), Lisa x Ketch (current), Sam x Jessica (current)

Word count: ±2200 words

Series summary: A slow burn romance. Reader is trying to get away from her troubled past and start fresh; a new name, new town, new friends, and a new job. A clean slate. After years of planning and saving, she is able to open her own business. With the help of her best friend and business partner, Charlie Bradbury, and her new flirty firefighter friend, she is hopeful, even when disaster strikes and her past threatens to catch up with her years later. 

Part two summary: Flashback to when you first met your green eyed hero and their budding romance. 

Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fire or mentions of fire, fluff (so much fluff), angst, eventual smut, mutual pining, alcohol abuse, alcohol intoxication, mentions of domestic abuse (physical, verbal), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of adultery/cheating, mentions of death, dangerous or life threatening situations, stress, descriptions of injuries, blood, hospital scenes, character death. 

Author’s note: Here is part two! I hope you enjoy this chapter and all it’s fluffy goodness! :)

A special thank you to @that-one-gay-girl and @deanwanddamons for being the wonderful beta’s that you are! Your feedback is always appreciated! Check out their awesome work and spread some love!

All graphics and dividers done by me! :)​

If you like this story, please don’t hesitate to leave a like, comment and if you’re feeling extra generous, share! Your feedback gives me live and motivation! If you would like to be tagged in the series, please don’t hesitate to ask!

Thank you and let’s enjoy this ride together!

<<-- Read part one, here!

Out of the Fire Masterlist!

Interested in more of my work, check out the link below.

Masterlist

About five weeks ago.

The shop was busier than usual, but being the final days of summer, it was expected. It wasn't anything you or Charlie  couldn't handle, of course, but it sure did make for long days and even longer nights of cleanup. 

"Charlie, table two needs refills, table six never got their vanilla lattes, and table four is ready to pay." You announced as you joined your partner behind the counter with a handful of dirty mugs and plates, having just made one of many rounds through the seating area.

The two of you danced around each other gracefully, moving in harmony as you switched from one task to another. “On it.” She acknowledged, already preparing the missing drinks and throwing in a complimentary pastry for the mistake.

You set the pile of dishes down into the sink before turning to the next customer in line, flashing him a friendly smile. “Yes, hi, how can I help you?” You greeted urgently, looking up to meet a set of stunning green eyes. You faltered slightly, taken by surprise by his strikingly good looks.

He smiled, almost bashfully, as he began to place his order, seeming not to notice your hesitation. “A round of coffees, black, for me and my buddies ,” He motioned toward the booth near the large bay window which was occupied by three other bodies; two men and one woman, all of whom adorned matching uniforms. “Cream and sugar on the side. Oh, uh, larges… or eh, talls?” He added with a sheepish chuckle, clearly unfamiliar with the coffee house lingo.

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent yourself from smiling more and potentially embarrassing him. “Venti.” You corrected him playfully. You saw the confused look on his face, his head cocking like a confused puppy, before adding, “For our ‘large,’” 

You used air quotes to emphasize your point, rolling your eyes at the technical terminology. “It’s venti.” You saw it the moment he understood what you were telling him, and he chuckled again, not missing the way he ducked his head to hide the slight flush to his freckled cheeks.

 “Never too old to learn something new.” He chuckled again and winked at you, the gesture setting butterflies loose inside of your stomach. It was your turn to look away this time, your face hot with a blush. He fished his wallet from his dark blue cargo pants, looking at the assortment of baked goods.

“Throw in a few of those bagels and croissants, too, please.” He added, casting his gaze down at the display case once again. “Oh, and a piece of that cherry pie.” He added almost dreamily, pulling out a couple of twenties. 

Upon further inspection, you took notice of the soot and ash that dirtied his face and darkened his hair in certain places. He had dark circles under his gorgeous eyes, too, clearly exhausted after a long shift. You glanced in the direction of his crew members, finding much of the same. “Long night?” You asked, trying to be friendly as much as you were curious.

“I look that rough, huh?” He teased, a look of mock offense accompanying his handsome features.

 You shook your head, a smile still curving your lips at the corners, “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that.” You clarified hastily as you calculated his order  into the register, making a point to leave off the coffees; it was the least you could do for him… eh, them, right?  

He winked again and laughed, the sound deep in his chest, assuring you that he was only teasing. “I know you didn’t,” The corner of his mouth turned up into a smile, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, watching your face and the way you tried to suppress your smile. “How much do I owe you, sweetheart?” He asked, glancing down at the display screen. 

The term of endearment made your heart flutter slightly, and you couldn’t keep the smile from creeping onto your face again. You swallowed the feeling down, pressing the enter key before you read aloud his total. 

“That’ll be $19.94, Mr. Firefighter.” He rose a questioning brow at the total, glancing up at the menu prices. “Coffee’s on the house.” You added quickly with a closed-lip smile, your eyes sincere. “It’s the least I can do for your services.” 

Several emotions seemed to make their way across his face, contorting it briefly before settling on gratitude. “Thank you.” He said, his voice genuine. He held out one of the twenty-dollar bills, paying for his order. “That was really kind of you, truly.” He smiled softly, glancing down at the name tag attached to your apron. “(Y/N).”

A smile formed on your lips before you could stop it, and your cheeks flushed at the way he said your name, your eyes finding the name embroidered onto the left side of his dark blue button-up shirt, opposite of a silver badge over his heart. Red patches were on either sleeve, proudly showing off the station they serve. “It’s no trouble, Lieutenant Winchester...” You promised with a sly smile. 

He laughed, appreciating your observation. “Dean.” He insisted as you accepted the bill. Your fingers touched, brushing against each other softly. The touch, however slight, was like an electric shock, igniting every part of your body. 

There was an annoyed grunt behind the firefighter, but the two of you paid little attention to it. You put the money into the till and collected his change, but Dean insisted that he didn’t need it. He walked backwards to his table, his bottom lip drawn up between his teeth. The two of you couldn’t seem to stop watching each other, nor did you want to, silently flirting with your eyes. 

You giggled when he bumped into an unoccupied table, watching as he almost knocked over its contents and awkwardly fumbled with the accompanying chair that nearly fell over. He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled self-consciously, trying to conceal his embarrassment. He ducked his head when he got back to his table, his friends giving him a hard time. 

He hid his face in his palms as a dark-haired man with scruff and blue eyes clapped a hand against Dean’s shoulder, booming with laughter. “Smooth,” You heard the blonde female tease, snickering at her partner. You watched them as you gathered up their order, blushing when you caught him stealing a few glances your way. When finished, you brought their order out to them personally, earning you another wink from the fireman.

The rest of the shift went by in a blur, unable to get those emerald eyes out of your head. Charlie had seemed to notice your distraction and, in perfect Charlie fashion, commented on it as you were closing up shop. “That fireman sure left his mark on you, huh?” She teased, a knowing smile drawing her lips up. 

You scoffed at her and tried to play it off like you didn’t know what she was talking about… and failing. “W-What? No - No, I - Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Charlie.” You muttered, locking the doors and placing the keys into your pocket.

She looked skeptical and cocked her hip, propping a hand there. “Uh-huh, sure.” She stated, waving her hands. “And I’m not the Queen of Mordor.” She said sarcastically, “Oh wait, I am.” She said exaggeratedly with her hands thrown in the air, referencing her extracurricular activity of LARPing. 

You rolled your eyes fondly at your best friend; she’d dragged you along to her LARPing weekends on more than one occasion, and you’d humored her, going along with it because it made Charlie happy. “You can’t fool me, sista, now spill the beans.” She insisted, following behind you with the broom as the pair of you cleaned up.

You sighed, wiping down one of the tables and the chairs that joined it, already knowing that you wouldn't win this battle against the feisty redhead. “I don’t know…” You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip as you thought about the encounter. “I can't explain it, I don’t know how to explain it… but there was just something about him… y'know?" You recalled, picking up one of the chairs and putting it on the table. "I just… I can’t quite put my finger on it…"

Charlie giggled, "Bet you wish you could." She teased, clearly hinting at more than she said. You gasped and feigned innocence, throwing the towel at her. Charlie laughed more, catching the soiled cleaning cloth before it collided with her face. "Oh, come on (Y/N)! I know that look in a woman's eye. I’ve seen it dozens of times! You want him. Bad!"

She threw the cloth back, and you caught it with ease. "Jeez, you make me sound so desperate." You grumbled, not denying Charlie's observation, despite the dramatics. 

Charlie hadn't missed a beat, and she grinned, a cocky sparkle in her eyes. "So you do like him." She chimed accusingly, clearly happy to be right.

You rolled your eyes again, moving onto the next table as Charlie continued sweeping under the one you'd just cleared. "Okay. Yeah, fine." You admitted, "I thought he was cute and charming and sexy in that uniform," 

Charlie made an ‘I-knew-it’ face, but you continued before she could make a sly remark, "But it doesn't matter. It's not like I'm ever gonna see him again." You stated with a reluctant sigh, spraying down the next table with the cleaning agent, trying to hide the disappointment lingering in your voice. You began to scrub at a stubborn spot on the table, trying to distract yourself.

Charlie frowned sadly, reading into your mood, and leaned the broom down against the table before closing the space between you. "I'm sorry for being pushy. It's just that you work all the time. When was the last time you did anything for yourself?" You were about to answer when she held up a finger, "Other than this café. This doesn't count, this is work." 

She had a point. You couldn't remember the last time you'd done anything that didn't involve this little shop. "Exactly. I just wanna see you have some fun and that," She thumbed over her shoulder toward the door, referring to Dean, "was fun." You chuckled softly, your cheeks getting warm at the thought. 

"You deserve to live a little,” She put her arms on your shoulders and squeezed affectionately, “Especially after what that snake put you through." You frowned at the reminder, dread coiling inside of your stomach and a frown pulled at your lips at the mention of your ex, Nick. 

Like always, Charlie didn’t let you get too lost in your thoughts, "And who knows, maybe he has an equally attractive sister for me." She added with a playful shrug and a giggle, effectively distracting you. "Fate works in mysterious ways, sista; you never know what she might throw your way." She added mysteriously, wiggling her eyebrows for added effect. 

As it turns out, Charlie was right. Fate did work in mysterious ways because, in the weeks that followed, Dean continued to show up, sometimes with his crew, but mostly by himself. The times he showed up varied, depending on his work scheduled, which you soon noticed was quite busy. Regardless of the hour, he always showed. 

It wasn't long before you memorized his order by heart; a venti coffee, black, and a slice of pie; whichever flavor was baked for the day's special. The flavor never seemed to be an issue for the firefighter, but it didn’t take you long to realize that cherry was clearly his favorite, with pecan  a close second. 

The pair of you flirted and subtly got to know each other as time went on, teetering somewhere between acquaintances and friends. He’d flirt. You’d flirt. But it never went any further than that.

Charlie teased you about it the whole time, of course. She wouldn’t be your best friend if she hadn’t. You’d just roll your eyes or shake your head every time she’d urge you to "grow a pair and ask him out already." 

You wanted to. Of course, you wanted to; you’d be an idiot not to want that.

But you didn't, of course, because you were too embarrassed and too afraid to act on your feelings. You'd done that once before already, and you paid one hell of a price for it. Hell, in a way, you still were. Nick left such a nasty scar on your heart; you weren't sure if you could ever love again. You were in a constant state of fear, afraid of being hurt again.

Charlie, being the wonderful best friend that she is, always tried to remind you that love… true love… would never hurt you. That real love was the stuff of magic and fairy tales. That what you had with Nick wasn’t love. It helped, a little, but that fear never truly went away, you just sort of learned to live with it.

Maybe someday you’ll feel differently.

And there you have it. Part two is complete. I hope you enjoyed that chapter as much as I did. Awkward/adorable Dean is one of my favs. Haha. 

As always, thanks for reading! 

Read part three, here! -->>

Taglist!

Supernatural

@akshi8278​

Out of the Fire (series)

@vicmc624 // @anotherspnfanfic // @krazykelly // @compresshischest09 // @thefamilybusiness  

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural au #dean winchester #dean x reader #firefighter!dean #firefighter au #firefighter dean #firefighter #firefighter series #supernatural series #out of the fire #part two #series #katelynw93 #katelyn writes #kate writes #SPN #spnfandom #spnfamliy #spnfanficpond #SPN fanfiction #spn au #spn #dean #fluff

[marrys-dream-world]

you drank so much sunlight you’re drowning in it

Read on AO3

Summary: When Marinette agreed to pretend to be Adrien's girlfriend so he could throw his father off the scent of his actual girlfriend, Ladybug, she didn't think anything could go wrong during the span of one dinner. Turns out she was wrong, of course. Fortunately, there's always a friendly cat looking out for her.

Notes: Guess who was inspired? This is a companion piece to “lovers alone wear sunlight”, but can be read as a stand alone. 

One lesson that Marinette had to learn quickly after becoming Ladybug was that there was always a chance of even the best made plans going sideways.

So when she slept through her alarm, had to rush into getting dressed for class, dumped salt instead of sugar in her coffee and tried to eat her croissant so fast before class started that she choked and had to be escorted to the infirmary by a worried Alya, she tried to not see it as an omen of what was to come. She held her head high and soldiered on through the day with her mismatched shoes and mouth tasting like a mix of salt and bitterness, not letting any of it bother her. 

She did have one weakness, however.

“Marinette, can I talk to you?” There it was. Suddenly, her knees felt weak.

Be still, my beating heart. She scolded. 

Adrien had rushed to ask her as soon as Ms. Bustier finished the class for lunch, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room. At that, he flushed and figdted on the spot.

“Alone?” He added quietly, doing a decent job at ignoring the way their classmates leaned in.

“I- hum, yeah, I mean, yeah.” She said eloquently, feeling her neck burn. “Won’t you home at lunch? No, lunch at home? E-eat lunch at home? Today?”

“Not today, no.” He said. He casually put his hand on her shoulder and leaned in to whisper in her ear. She wondered if he could hear her heartbeat. “I need your help.”

Wasn’t that a bucket of cold water?

She straightened up. “Of course! C’mon.”

Marinette grasped his wrist in one hand and her backpack in another, pulling a stunned Adrien from the classroom. She caught a glimpse of her classmate’s knowing smile, Alya’s confused face, Chloe trying to pretend she wasn’t watching and Lila looking contemplative. She took him to a classroom that was usually empty around lunch time, something she knew from always needing a handy place to transform to fight akumas like Lunch Lady. 

“No one comes here at this hour.” She reassured him and he relaxed against a table. “No one will overhear or anything.”

My father said that he heard it from a “reliable source from school”. He had told Ladybug, the day before. I think there’s someone spying on me for him. 

“Marinette, I… Wow, this is awkward.” Adrien said, putting his hands in his pockets and kicking the air in front of him. 

“Take your time.” She said. It sure wasn’t an easy tale to tell. 

“Okay, this will sound really weird, but let me finish: father told me yesterday that he knows I’m dating someone and I told him you’re my secret girlfriend.” He started, tensing up again. When she just raised an eyebrow and nodded, he went on. “I panicked. I do have a girlfriend, but I can’t introduce her to my father due to some personal reason, but he wouldn’t accept that. And I can’t deny it because, apparently, everyone says I’m ‘obviously lovesick’ and my father wouldn’t believe otherwise.”

Well, there’s her confirmation that he read through the “Lovesick Agreste: is Paris’ biggest teenager bachelor off the market?” articles. Not that anyone in class hadn’t noticed his sighs and blushes and random daydreaming. She liked to think she was more subtle than that. 

“So I told him it was you because you’re one of my best friends and he likes you a lot!” Hearing it for a second time doesn’t make the idea that Gabriel Agreste likes her any less surreal. “But now he wants to meet you for dinner today and I know it’s a lot to ask, but will you pretend to be my girlfriend? Just for today?”

Marinette stared at him for a moment. She had known the full story almost as soon as it happened, Adrien spilling it and his plan for dinner to Ladybug the night before. It had given her time to prepare and she was grateful, having no idea how she would react if he had caught her blindsided. But it was still weird watching it play out, like the merging of an outsider perspective and her own.

“Can I ask a question?” She managed to croak out. There was really only one answer she wanted. 

Adrien twitched. “Y-yes, of course.”

“This girl… does she make you happy?”

Adrien looked straight into her eyes and answered solemnly. “Deliriously happy.”

Marinette couldn’t hold back the grin that took over her face.

“Let’s do this, then!” Her heart was swelling so much she thought it would burst out of her chest. “Adrien Agreste, I’ll be your fake girlfriend!”

The beaming smile she received made it worth it already. She just had to be discreet about it.

<>

“Soooo… What did Adrien want to talk about?” Alíx asked, a teasing grin on her face that was matched by Mylene, Rose and Juleka. They had crowdened her desk as soon as class let out. 

“He just wanted help with… homework.” Marinette word-vomited. Alya paused on putting her things away to facepalm.

“Marinette, it’s okay, you don’t need to pretend.” Mylene said calmly, which only confused her.

“Pretend to what?”

Rose laughed. “We know you’re dating Adrien.”

Marinette.exe has stopped working.

“You know what?”

“We understand you’re trying to keep it a secret, but you’re not exactly subtle. You both keep daydreaming in class and smiling and blushing.” Juleka pointed out. Fine, maybe she wasn’t as subtle as she thought. “It’s okay, we won’t tell anyone.”

There’s nothing to tell! She wanted to scream.

We aren’t dating at all. Are you guys crazy? She wanted to deny.

Then, something in her mind clicked.

“You guys figured me out.” Marinette said, injecting a proportionate amount of defeat into her voice. Distantly, she heard Alya choke. “Adrien and I are dating…”

The four girls cheered.

“... but we were keeping it a secret because his father is, you know. “ They all nodded, including Alya. Unfortunately, they did know Gabriel Agreste. “But he figured it out and now I’m going to have dinner at his house today.”

Rose and Alya let out high pitched screams for two very different reasons.

“Oh, Marinette, you’re formally meeting your in-laws, this is serious!” Rose chirped. Marinette decided to focus on that instead of Alya’s murderous eyes. “We have to give you a makeover!”

“Great idea!” Marinette shouted, jumping up from her seat and avoiding Alya’s hand that was trying to claw into her arm. “Everyone is invited to my house today!”

Sorry, Alya. She thought as the other girls started to talk over each other as Alya silently fumed. But I can’t have this conversation right now. 

<>

She did regret that decision, eventually. 

Between Alíx’s surprisingly accurate tips on how rich people ate dinner and which fork to absolutely not use for salad, Juleka’s makeup tips and Rose and Mylene’s debates on which outfit suited her the best, Marinette is left even more nervous. It doesn’t help that Alya spends the whole time sitting in the corner, just staring at Marinette. Even when Marinette brings out her favorite tart as a peace offering, Alya eats it, paper mold and all, while staring deeply into her eyes.

It was incredibly unsettling. 

“Ta-da!” Rose chirps, presenting a dolled up Marinette to her four-people audience. They all clapped. 

Marinette looked into the mirror. She could admit she looked amazing, make up well-done and outfit impeccable. But at what cost?

“Our baby is all grown up.” Alíx said, wiping a fake tear from her cheek. “She even knows how to use forks now.”

She swallowed back a sob. After Marinette misused the fish fork for the eleventh time, Alíx had taken to ripping an Adrien picture everytime she got it wrong. She learned pretty quickly after that. 

“Great work, girls.” Alya said, her first words in three hours. She got up from the chair and clasped her hands. “Now, Mama Alya needs to have a word alone with her daughter.”

“Of course!” Mylene said, finishing putting the rest of Marinette’s clothes away. 

As the girls left, Marinette looked longingly at her window and only stopped thinking of escaping, halfway through a plan, when she saw the look on Alya’s face. 

“So, peach really brings out my complexion, huh? Or maybe Juleka is just that good with makeup.” She tried.

Tikki, coming out of her hiding place, sighed.

“Marinette, that’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

“What? I think I had worse makeup looks before.”

“Marinette.”

She winced. “In my defense, I don’t think this makes it into the top 10 dumbest things I’ve ever done.”

“Why did you tell the girls you’re dating Adrien?”

“Because I am dating Adrien.”

“Ladybug is dating Adrien.” And by Alya’s tone, her opinion hasn’t improved on that either. 

“And Marinette is helping Adrien throw off his father from that by pretending to be his girlfriend.” Marinette said, then, at Alya dumbfounded look, made jazz hands and added a weak: “Ta-da.”

“Tikki.” Alya said, voice restraining a mix of frustration and desperation. “Why do you let Marinette do dumb stuff like this?”

Tikki swallowed a whole cookie. “I don’t control the speed in which Marinette does dumb stuff.”

“Hey!”

“Why not?”

“I’m still here, you know?”

Tikki and Alya’s combo stare shut her up. 

“How do you get yourself in these situations?” Alya asked, helplessly.

“Welcome to my life.” Tikki said, offering Alya a cookie. They toasted before biting into their perspective treats. 

“It’s not that bad.” Marinette said. Neither gave her a response. 

<>

The Agrestes sent her a car to take her to dinner.

Alya and her parents sent her off. Her, on her tenth fruit tart and judging-and-supportive-at-the-same-time stare, and them, her mother comforting her crying father that wailed that “his little girl had grown up”. The three of them demanded at least fifty pictures before they let her go. She loved her family, but the quiet ride there was a respite to gather her thoughts and calm down enough to not make a fool of herself.

So, of course, when she got to the house and saw Adrien in a carefully styled outfit and his father waiting for her on the top of the stairs, she tripped on her heels and was only saved by falling into the hard concrete by the Gorilla’s grip on the back of her dress.

“Marinette.” Adrien said adoringly as she reached the top of the stairs, cheeks flushed and eyes shining.

He could be an actor if he wanted. She thought, dazed, as she took the hand he offered her.

“Good evening, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.” Gabriel Agreste said, nodding at her.

“Good evening, Mr. Agreste.” She responded, managing to keep her voice from trembling. 

The dining room was excessive, much bigger than she thought it would be needed for a three-people dinner. Adrien, like a gentleman, held her hand till she was seated and sent her a fond look. She barely managed an awkward smile back. It was weird, trying to pretend to be in love with Adrien when she was in love with. Hell, they were dating, he just didn’t know that. Would he recognize her lovesick look as the same he got from Ladybug? That the way their hands fit together was familiar? These questions wouldn’t leave her mind.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng, that’s an interesting dress you’re wearing.” Mr. Agreste said as the first course was served. Marinette’s hands immediately went for the right fork as the sound of paper ripping ringed in her ears. “Care to say where you got it?”

“I, uh, designed it myself.” She said, gesturing vaguely. “It’s a new piece.”

“Marinette is a very talented designer.” Adrien said and she puffed up a little, chest full of pride.

“I was not speaking to you, Adrien.” His father said curtly and the light in her boyfriend’s eyes dimmed.

Ah, another reason she wasn’t looking forward to dinner. All of Adrien's friends know him as a very strict and overprotective man, but Ladybug, as Adrien’s girlfriend and constant secret visitor to the Agreste Mansion, knew better. She saw how he constantly put Adrien down, berating him for the slightest mistake and made him cancel plans last minute because of missed notes on a piano performance. Adrien was genuinely scared of his father and if Marinette wasn’t doing this whole thing to help him, she would dump the bowl of hot soup she was now sipping on his father’s lap. 

“But you’re right. The dress is craftily-made.” Mr. Agreste said. “You’re looking for a future in the fashion scene, right, Ms. Dupain-Cheng?”

“Yes, that’s actually why Adrien and I are dating in secret.” She said, noticing the glint in his eyes. “We don't want anyone to think I’m using him to climb up the scene or anything like that.”

“An admirable effort.” He said and Adrien beamed at her. He really had the prettiest smile in the world, it never failed to raise butterflies in her stomach. “Tell me more about your dress. How did you choose the material?”

The main course continued like that, Marinette and Mr. Agreste talking about fashion and Adrien’s interjections now being welcomed. She got enough pointers and constructive criticisms that her hands itched for a notebook to write it all down. Adrien looked incredibly happy, throwing her sunshine-filled gazes and grasping at her hands every time he wanted to punctuate a sentence. 

I love him. She thought. 

Of course, that’s why it went south before dessert. 

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I must admit that you’re an admirable young woman.” Mr. Agreste said and she allowed her feeling of pride to swell, before he popped it like a balloon at his next words: “And completely unfit for the Agreste Brand image.”

“What?” Adrien and Marinette shouted at the same time, shocked.

“No matter your intentions, the media will see this as a young designer trying to get an advantage in the industry by dating the heir to a fashion empire.” He said simply.

“But it’s not true!” Marinette blurted out.

“It doesn’t matter.” He dismissed, before continuing, voice cruel: “There’s also the problem of your background.”

It felt like someone scooped out Marinette’s stomach and filled the empty space with ice.

“M-my background?”

“Father…” Adrien started, surprisingly firm.

“You’re a baker’s daughter, Ms. Dupain-Cheng, hardly worthy of the Agreste name.” Mr Agreste said, like it wasn’t breaking her heart. “You two have to break up before this… fling tarnishes the family image.”

“Father!” Adrien said, sounding more serious than she ever heard him. “How can you even say something like that?”

Marinette felt like she was underwater, everything felt muffled and Adrien and his father sounded like they were both far away. This couldn’t be happening to her. 

“I… have to go.” She said, getting up from her chair. “I’m sorry, Adrien.”

She left, ignoring Adrien’s calls of her name and running into the streets. Her feet hurt from her shoes, so she stepped into an alley and opened her bag, deaf to Tikki’s reassurances and transformed quickly. She swung through the city before detransforming near her house and coming in the front door, her parents excited inquiries quickly giving away to fretting that left her wrapped in blankets in her room with a tub of ice cream on her lap and a worried Tikki on her hair. 

Thank god Alya already left. Marinette thought. If one more person looked at her with a pitying gaze, she would scream. 

“I’m fine, Tikki. I’m not sad.” It was true, her whole body just felt numb. There wasn’t room for anything else. “I just want to be alone for a moment.”

With that, she climbed up to her balcony, leaving Tikki alone with a phone that was buzzing with dozens of unseen messages.

The cold air nipped at her skin, but she refused to go down and get more blankets. She stared unseeing at the blinking lights of the city. She wanted to stay there and watch them. She wanted to fly through them. Neither felt like enough, so she closed her eyes.

“What’s upsetting such a pretty lady on a pretty night like this?”

She snapped her head to the side at the sound of that voice. A voice she hadn’t heard directed at her since…

“You could at least pretend that you actually think I’m your partner and trust me , how about that?!”

“Chat Noir…” She gasped, hungrily driking in his messy blond hair and grinning mouth that didn’t hide worried his cat-like eyes were. 

Eyes that wouldn’t look into hers since the fight where he found out she told someone her identity and the issues that spiraled from that.

“Hey, Marinette.” He said, sitting down beside her. “So?”

She tilted her head. “So what?”

“What got you so upset?”

“I-I’m not upset.” She said, a tremble escaping into her voice. 

He raised a hand to her cheek, touching gently. She watched, entranced.

“You’re crying.” Chat Noir said, soflty.

“Oh.” Marinette said and it was like a dam broke.

Chat Noir held her as she sobbed, huge tears rolling down her red face as her body trembled. It should feel weird, they only met as Marinette and Chat Noir a handful of times, but her heart knew her partner and could never feel anything but safe in his arms. 

“It’s okay, princess.” He said, the nickname falling easily from his tongue. “Cry all you need.”

And she did, until it seemed like she had, finally, run out. 

“S-sorry.” She mumbled against his shoulder.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He reassured, stroking her hair. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

She sat up, detangling herself from his arms. His eyes flashed with something that she couldn’t quite place.

“I went out to help a friend and it ended up pretty badly.” Marinette said, wiping her cheeks with her blanket. 

“Did you two have a fight?” He asked, oddly subdued.

“Not exactly, it’s not really his fault but… I don’t want to talk to my friend right now.”

Because how could she even begin to explain that it wasn’t Adrien’s fault, but she couldn’t bear to see his face right now? That it was a fake date, but the fact that his father wouldn’t approve of her even if it was real broke her heart? That it wasn’t because of anything she could change and didn’t want to change, anyway, but her essence itself? To look at the guilty face of her friend, her secret boyfriend, wouldn’t help her at all.

“I understand.”

“Because of you and Ladybug?” The words left her mouth before she could think them through. 

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean me and Ladybug?”

“I-I, erm.” She swallowed heavily. “I mean, Alya said you two are probably fighting, since you are going on all-solo patrols and have been kinda stiff during akuma fights.”

He deflated. “I didn’t see anything on the Ladyblog.”

“She wouldn’t put ammunition for Shadow Moth on the Ladyblog.” She defended. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I… don’t know?” He looked genuinely confused. “I haven’t really talked about this with anyone but my kwami.”

She was surprised he said that, before realizing he thought she knew what a kwami was because of Mullo and her time as Multimouse. 

“You can vent if you want. You already saw me being all, you know.” She gestured vaguely at herself. “Just say as much as you want.”

“Ladybug and I did have a fight. We don’t let it interfere with our job or anything, but our friendship is kinda on the rocks right.” He said quietly, cat ears dropping. “I can’t tell you why, but sometimes it just feels like I’m not important to her.”

“Of course you are!” She exclaimed, protests falling automatically from her mouth like on hero discussion day at school.

(She was officially banned from debates after she made a student that said Chat Noir sucked cry.)

“Am I really?” He chuckled, self-deprecating. “Everyone thinks Ladybug is the best. I don’t blame them, they’re right. But when they call me a sidekick, they might just be right. She doesn’t see me as her partner, she doesn’t trust me.”

His voice cracked at the end and she wrapped him in her arms. 

“You won’t let me help you, Ladybug.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She said, holding back tears as it was his turn to cry.

He laughed wetly. “Why? It’s not your fault.”

But it is. “I’m still sorry.”

“It's just… I love her.” He said and it ached. “I love her so much but I don’t think she cares about me half as much as I care about her.”

“Of course she does.” Marinette said, but her words sounded weak even to her own ears.

“She doesn’t.” He answered, simply.

“I wish… I wish I could make her love you.” She said, surprising him and herself so much it startled a laugh out of him.

“There’s no need for that, I’m not mad she doesn’t love me like this or anything.” Chat Noir said, honestly. “I just want to know she cares.”

“She cares.” Marinette defended fiercely. “I care.”

His eyes softened. “That means a lot to me, princess.”

Then he took her hand, mindful of his claws, and squeezed. Together, they watched the lights until she fell asleep.

Her heart felt full.

#Marinette Dupain-Cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #ladybug #ml fic #my stuff #adrinette #marichat #fake dating #you drank so much sunlight you're drowning in it #lovers alone wear sunlight #companion piece

[hooniee]

 — ꒰‧⁺paris run away  *ೃ༄

↷ heeseung x reader ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷genre: fluff | comdey ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ warnings: not proofread | none! ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ synopsis: (y/n) just graduates from high school and feel incomplete but doesn’t know what’s missing. a trip to paris might be able to fix that ⋯ ♡ᵎ 

↷ author note: this is @enhypenwriters​ event of the month! strangers to lovers <3 i think this was my favorite to write out of the three pieces but i feel like it’s lacking some flare :( i think it still turned out okay though. i hope you enjoy <3 ⋯ ♡ᵎ

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*

you should have listened to sunoo when he said that it wasn't a good plan to travel to a foreign country on impulse.

you wouldn’t say you’ve ever been the most courageous person in your life. determined to break that trend, you planned this super out of the blue trip without much thought.

yeah. maybe this was a bit TOO courageous.

you didn't comprehend what compelled you yet here you were, arriving at paris charles de gaulle airport.

you stared at the large windows of the airport, viewing the plane that you had just left.

the gate for the concluding passengers had been locked by the flight stewardesses.

one of the stewardesses obtained eye contact with you, before shooting a smile and lightly bowing her head.

you absentmindedly returned the gesture, mind elsewhere.

bustling throughout the airport were people hurrying to their connecting flight or slumping into their lover's arms

people carried two or more suitcases with various bags strapped on their bodies, nothing on you besides a petite sling purse and one small carry on suitcase.

as weaved your way through the mass of stressed travelers, you briefly thought to yourself

how the hell did you get here?

2 days earlier

clusters of kids outfitted in blue gowns and caps could be recognized a mile away.

the graduation from high school to university.

your friend minji encloses her arm around your shoulder, your arm resting on her waist.

minji’s mom was stood in front of the both of you, gesturing wildly as she tried to take the ‘perfect graduation photo’ as she had put it

"okay pose! get a little closer, perfect. 1, 2, 3"  your friend's mom counts.

the camera shudders which creates a beaming light to flash, eyes faintly twitching.

shrieks could be heard throughout the campus as girls queued up to take their final photographs with the popular guys.

minji's mom draws back the camera and we check the picture.

"it's cute," minji exclaims, peering at it a bit more closer. you nod your head in approval.

you would miss minji, one of the friends you could constantly count on in math class when you neglected to do your homework from binging korean dramas.

"i'll send you the picture later (y/n)! don't forget about me alright? you have my socials and you can always talk to me," minji grasps your hands

you smile, feeling sad at the departure of your best friend, "of course minji, don't forget me either"

"i could never," she brings you into a secure hug.

"sweet pea perfume," you say and she chuckles. sweat pea was minji's preferred perfume and you would miss that aroma.

"i have to go now, but i'll see you around okay?" minji says.

you could notice tears well up in her eyes and she fans her eyes to prevent the tears.

"don't cry ji, i'll start crying," you joked. "i live near here and you can always visit me! my door will always be open."

she smiled, "the same goes for you." her mother shouts her name before she has to go.

"alright, see you around," you wave to her as she leaves.

on the opposite side of the garden, your mom signals to you with your bouquet of red roses in hand.

"are you ready honey?" she asks you and you smile, nodding your head.

the car ride was in pleasant quietness, light radio music fluttering in. you had taken off your cap and laid it in the car seat next to you accompanying with your bouquet. 

you had glimpsed outside to see your campus still arranged with your classmates, beaming and posing for additional pictures.

you bitterly smiled. 

for the first time, graduation didn't appear like one of those liberating scenes of a movie,

1 day ago

you sprawled on his bed, staring straight up. a fan in your hand, fanning the perspiration that threatened to come.

your eyes match the fan's speed directly above your neighbor and best friend, sunoo's, bed.

his air conditioner was broken. with the avail of those elementary paper fans and the only fan stationed in the house, you were able to find comfort

you questioned if he ever got frightened of it dropping on him when he slept.

sunoo occupies the bathroom that's joined to his room, applying some light powder.

your mind strays, more thoughts simmering in the back of your brain. you sigh for the 10th time and sunoo being exasperated, allows out a loud groan. 

it draws you out of your daze and you snap your head towards him."

"what is with you? what is on your mind sunshine?" he shuts his cushion, flinging himself on the bed.

"are you ever scared of the fan falling on you?" you felt the bed dip

"no, it's been like that for years, and don't change the subject. what's wrong?" sunoo retorted 

"what makes you say that? i'm fine, " you answer

"uh-huh," sunoo rolls his eyes

it's the blatant eye-roll rather than the hushed one, he implied business

"you've been sighing for the past ten minutes, spill," sunoo says

of course, sunoo could recognize your distress. what sort of best friend would he be if he couldn't distinguish your emotions?

you huff, " okay then"

"i don't know why but i just feel stuck? i just graduated high school and nothing feels different, i mean it doesn't have to, but what do i do now? maybe i just watched too many movies"

sunoo tsked, " (y/n). sweetie, i graduated last year and i'm still stuck here. i do nothing besides go out or stay in my room. no in-between."

"but you have something sunoo. you have a bunch of your friends, you're an instagram star and i don't know, it's just different, "

it was accurate, sunoo was extremely popular. he had a bunch of friends and acquaintances from being the vice president. 

sunoo inflated up on social media for his content from makeup to dance practices, a versatile instagram star.

you conceal your face with your hands before emitting a loud groan.

sunoo remarks, "i don't know how i can help you (y/n)? maybe you should try to rest a bit"

"easy for you to say, you, who isn’t dealing with a mid-life crisis, " you whine.

"this isn't a mid-life crisis, this is a post-graduation crisis which is totally normal. how about going out of town? obviously not to paris or whatever but maybe, what was her name again? minjoo's town!" sunoo suggested.

"obviously not to paris"

"not to paris"

"to paris"

"paris"

what about paris? paris was considerably away from your town and had a ring on the tip of your tongue. 

you had sprung up, grasping sunoo by the shoulder and shaking him, "you're a genius sunoo! paris is a genius idea."

sunoo's eyes widen and he shakes his head while attempting to pry your hands off of him.

"no, you have to think rationally-"

you released sunoo from your hold which let him stabilize his spinning head.

"and i am! i need something new. being in this town for my whole life makes me realize, maybe i just need a spontaneous trip. "

your words scarcely blur together, adrenaline rushing through your blood as you understood this could jolt you out of your post-graduation slump.

"but-"

"no buts! pass me my laptop,"

present-day

you are currently disliking your choice, anxiety rushing through your veins, but it's too overdue to have other opinions.

you had landed in france and this was a life-altering moment; a chance of a lifetime.

peering nearby, you squint at the tiny english translations of the signs. you pull out your phone.

you open up the camera to see if zooming in would improve it for your eyes. as if on cue, your stomach rumbles vaguely making you startled.

you panicked as the pocket that was previously supplied with snacks became loaded with empty wrappers.

maybe if you would be lost in this wonderful city, you might as well try some of their famous pastries.

your muscles had retracted, the result of finally getting some movement after being restrained in a metal machine that was adjacent to the fiery sun.

you stumbled across this petite bakery and enter, sparingly bowing your head. 

the owner was an older lady with her greying hair that designed it to resemble ashy highlights, pulled into a loose bun.

"que puis-je vous offrir?" she smiles.

"i'm sorry, i don't speak french?" you admit, embarrassed

as much as you assumed duolingo and rosetta stone could benefit you on a flight to paris, the only thing you could accomplish to say without messing up is "bonjour"

"that's fine mademoiselle! what can i offer you?" the lady shifts to englsih

you let out a sigh of relief, appreciative for blundering into this bakery.

"may i have your most popular pastry to go and a water bottle?" you smile, fishing out some euros.

you had looked down to the currency that you had exchanged before embarking on the plane.

"of course mademoiselle!" she says, reaching behind the counter and with her gloved hand, seizing a chocolate croissant.

"that will be 4.12 euros!" she rings you up in the cashier.

"is this the right amount? i'm not very good at counting euros," you revealed your hand where the money was.

she nodded her head and took the money, printing your receipt out. before giving you your receipt, she interviews you with a question that you weren't confident in answering"

"if you don't mind me asking, why are you here in france? not to sound rude! but i'm just curious"

you softly smile, sensing the kindness illuminating from her tone of voice. she wasn't rude at all and she was asking a simple question, but your brain struggled to obtain an answer.

"well, i would say i'm here to explore?  i just finished high school and life felt incomplete. my best friend jokingly said "go to paris" and so I booked a ticket."

you look back up at her to see her delicate gaze. the rustling of the paper bag stopped the moment of silence

"that's amazing mademoiselle! france is the city for that. you must visit the notre-dam cathedral while you're here, it's beautiful. and maybe even find some love?"

she winks at you and you engage with a small giggle.

just like the show "emily in paris," you could merely fantasize about living a life like hers but it was an altered universe. she was an employed woman and you; a fresh graduate from high school.

"maybe! but i'm not looking forward to dating right now"

it wasn't a lie nor the truth. you would love to date someone right now but dating someone from a foreign country with a language barrier? not the most desirable idea. the owner laughs, handing you your pastry and water bottle.

"thank you for dropping by here mademoiselle! please enjoy your time in france,"

"merci beaucoup" you stumbled out, providing a small wave out.

the airport seemed to be more crowded than before. slowly opening the wrapping, you take a bite of the chocolate croissant and let out an audible gasp.

unquestionably, one of the greatest pastries you have tried in your life.

you promptly pull out your phone, snapping a picture for your instagram story. it was an adorable picture with the bakery in the background with the chocolate croissant in hand.

with "just landed" as your caption, you posted it to your close friends story. almost a second later, sunoo request to video call you.

you were welcomed by a piercing shriek into the phone.

"YAH I WAS JUST GREETED BY YOUR PARENTS WHO SAID YOU WERE AT A SLEEPOVER FOR A COUPLE DAYS? SLEEPOVER MY FOOT? YOU'RE IN PARIS-" 

sunoo screeches over the phone and you timidly grimace, turning down the volume as people begin to stare.

"sunoo, i'm currently in a public airport with no earbuds plugged in, can you please STOP screaming?" you whispered audibly to him.

"OH, I FORG- sorry," sunoo sheepishly responds.

"my parents would never let me go this far so i just had to lie that i was going to a sleepover at minji's house which is out of town. plus i'm only going to be here for two days," you consult him.

"you saw me buy the tickets sunoo. why are you scolding me now? shouldn't you have tried to stop me while i was in the middle of buying the tickets?" you added.

"well now i want you to come back, who am i supposed to hang out with for the next 2 days?" 

though it was dark in the setting sunoo was in, you could practically see his pouting face.

"you could hang out with jake? or sunghoon? aren't they both your friends?"

jake and sunghoon went to the same school as sunoo and you're buddies with them. you've known each other since middle school but jake and sunghoon were always closer to each other just like you and sunoo.

"jake and sunghoon hyung are busy on a vacation together in the bahamas"

you stifled a laugh in, "good luck being alone for the next two days."

"not funny (y/n)! besides that point, what if you get caught?"

"don't worry, i won't get caught because you're the only one who knows about this .as long as you don't rat me out sunoo," you scowl at him.

"i won't, i won't, i promise but you have to buy me something? deal?”

you roll your eyes, "deal mr. sunoo-shi, i have to go now. i need to try to find my hotel"

"be safe, love you!"

"i will! love you too"

you sulk after the call ends. without your best friend on your side, you felt a little feeble and lost but it's not time to be pondering like that. 

paris awaits and you couldn't linger at the airport the whole day.

first challenge 

getting to your hotel was a struggling. wandering around a city with no basis of the language besides "hello" and "thank you so much", didn't do enough for you.

first, you had to find a taxi that could converse in english. most people had turned you down as you couldn't speak french.

thankfully, it was a fortunate day and you met this kind lady who had coffee-colored curly locks, gentle chocolate eyes, and light freckles scattered around her face.

"do you speak english?" you crisscrossed your fingers, your legs close to giving out after scrambling for taxi drivers

"yeah, i do mademoiselle! would you like to hop in?" she extended a friendly smile and you had never felt bricks lift off your chest faster.

she opened the back of the taxi and you scouted in, permitting your purse to lay on your lap.

the women examined both directions of the road, looking out for passing cars and entered the driver's seat.

"where are you heading mademoiselle?"

you swiftly pull out your phone to your notes, "hotel le walt paris?"

you corked your eyebrow, making sure it was the right name before she nodded her head. 

"a very famous hotel huh? right near the eiffel tower. i recommend that you wait till it gets dark and sit on the balcony to see the eiffel tower with lights. it's beautiful"

you smiled at the kind words of the lady, "i will surely try that! thank you miss..?"

"elena! elena is fine and you mademoiselle?"

"i'm (y/n)"

"it's nice to meet you"

"likewise"

the entire ride, you felt at some peace finally conversing with someone who understood english,

 after a 30 minute drive, you had arrived at your destination.

feeling a sad departure from this mellow woman, who turned out to be 19 seeking to make some pocket money in the summer, she was one of the first people that you had grown connected with throughout this ride.

"elena, though it was a short time, thank you for keeping company"

you present her with a warm smile as she unlocks the door for you. you exit the taxi, clasping at your phone.

"here, give me your phone."

you softly planted it in elena's hand. you were perplexed about why she showed you your home screen until you realized you had a password.

you enter your password, giving it back to her. she did a bit of clicking and you could see her hands typing something in before returning the phone back to you.

"that's my instagram, stay in contact with me alright?"

you felt the sides of your lips curve into a slight smile. you dragged her into a soft hug.

"thank you elena"

she visibly hesitant before easing into the hug. she softly rubbed your back.

"i have to go, i might get fired if i stay here too long"

you bided her a fare-well. thirty minutes was an extended time to get a know a person.

and that was the first friend you met in france.

second challenge

checking into your hotel wasn't as difficult. most people could speak english and besides the uncanny looks that you received from the clerk, check-in was pretty smooth.

"here you are mademoiselle" the bellman lowers your suitcase in front of your hotel door.

"merci beaucoup,"  you smile and he returns the gesture before leaving you.

you look down in your hand where you are grasping the card tightly. you scan the card against the door meter and it flickers twice. 

red, green

the door clicks before you push on it and reveal your hotel room.

at first glance, your mouth dropped.

the hotel room seemed better than it did on the online photographs which was a rare possibility.

though it was a small room, it was renovated beautifully.

overhead the king-sized bed, there was an extensive painting of the eiffel tower. a blue chair that held a place directly by the bed along with a little wooden table.

the hotel was fine but you definitely weren't

"(y/n) shut down in,"

"3"

"2"

"1"

before thinking, you throw yourself on the bed having the jet-lag kicking in. the bag offers a 'thump' sound as it connects with the ground.

'ouch that hurt'

you fish through your pocket, pulling out your phone. it was hardly twelve pm and you were already fatigued.

what was your strategy? you were in france for two days and you don't have a plan to do anything.

first things first, you needed to sort out this jet-lag.

 1) taking a shower

showers are always a great way to awaken and could shake you from this daze. you endured a scream as your water turned to be ice cold. someone must be utilizing the hot water. that shower unmistakably woke you up

2) skincare

after getting out of the shower, skincare was the secondary way to wake up. cleansing with toner, dropping essence into the skin, and implementing a nice coat of moisturizer to lock-in.

3) fueling with food

food can beat anybody out of slumber if they're fueled with enthusiasm but you didn't have any food on you? that indicates it's time to go out and explore france.

unfastening up your suitcase, you drabble on what you can wear.

reconciling with a simple pair of denim shorts and a light pink tank top, you catch a fast mirror selfie.

being content with the ultimate product, you smile to yourself.

"phone, key, wallet," you whispered, securing the thoughts of having everything. 

everything was arranged to go and it was time to tour paris.

third challenge 

cruising through paris would be by notably the toughest challenge while you were here.

you had your phone to navigate solely with wifi and you couldn't be that favorable to be able to meet people who could speak english all the time. 

you had entered a small restaurant, where you worked to communicate with people in defective french but they moderately understood what you wanted.

after that fiasco trying to order a chicken frricassee, you were able to appreciate your time there along with sending a picture to sunoo who reacted with,

"can that be the souvenir you bring back to me TT?"

you chuckled at the message, knowing typical sunoo, and finished up eating.

eating wasn't the one exclusive thing available in france. there were various activities but you were too afraid to venture any future for the hotel. getting lost too was easy.

that being said, eating after eating all you could do was roam around the city. it was around 2pm and you could spot a diverse crowd of people.

you could see kids. in uniforms that just got out of school or a cute couple that was experiencing their date.

you slightly squint and cover your eyes as the sun is at its highest point.

yes, paris was lovely and you would prefer to travel more but but you didn’ toriginally have a plan

for a couple of hours, you completed wandering around the area where your hotel is. you wished at moments like this that you would have jungwon, sunoo's friend, with you to help navigate you.

 jungwon was also a friend you guys met in middle school but he went to your school. very mature for his age and great at preparation.

before you knew it, the sun had died down and it was time to retreat to the hotel.

'ah right! elena told me to look out at the eiffel tower as it gets darker'

you softly tread back to your hotel, observing the blisters at the back of your foot.

you could clearly sense the entire day of walking take a toll on your body.

you scan your key card and fling your bag to the floor as soon as you get inside. you open up your suitcase to change into suitable sleeping clothes.

you briskly cleansed your face and tied your hair back.

you had approached the balcony, guessing how to cautiously open the glass door.

you gradually shift the handle to the right and the door made a scanty creek. you gingerly put more stress on it, opening the balcony wide.

a distinct gasp could be heard from you.

subsequently taking a step onto your balcony, the frail breeze made you quiver in the long black tee that adorned your top half and the sweatpants that settled on your waist.

the balcony was small, barely able to move besides staying still.

you had peered to your right, glancing at the eiffel tower.

elena was correct. the eiffel tower was breath-taking at night. for the first time when landing in france, you could feel in harmony. below you was a crowded street.

it was only 8 pm yet you could feel your eyes droop as opposed to the bouncy pair of kids that ran through the moobs of people.

the radiant yellowish glow of the eiffel tower was able to save you from dozing off. you softly hum 'fly me to the moon,'

'fly me to the moon,' didn't have significance, it felt appropriate in the second.

you hadn't regarded it but a figure had gently peeked out of the other balcony, attentively listening to the silky melody that you were humming.

"nice song"

a voice interrupts and your humming had come to a halt, eyes widened.

you had turned to the origin of the voice and discovered the culprit

the balcony alongside you.

"thank you"

you glanced over, granting him a slight smile before he returns it.

"new to paris?"

he questioned, now you guys facing each other.

"yeah, just arrived this morning, and you?"

you asked before he softly smiles.

"not really, i've been here multiple times but the feeling is something i'll get used too."

you hum as a response

"how did you know to speak english to me? do i really act like a foriegner?"

you were growing more drowsy but this stranger was fascinating. who else could say they met someone and talked to them from a balcony romance?

"english song, random guess"

you nodded your head, not certain if he could see you but that was all you could muster up.

there grows stillness beside the bustling street below until the stranger breaks it.

"i know this sounds weird but since you're new here, would you like to go out with me tomorrow to travel the city?"

that question felt like ice water was just splashed onto your face. the proposal startled you. 

the stranger didn't appear like a bad person. been to paris varied times, can acknowledge good music and good at conversation.

as much as this stranger flatter you, how could you trust him?

"as much as i would love to, how do i know that you're not trying to kidnap me, even worse, kill me?"

he stifles a laugh.

"hey knock it off, this is a very serious question, balcony boy"

you snicker, desiring to know the answer than anticipated.

"i promise you that i won't try to kidnap OR kill you. i'm just offering and you can even pat me down before we go out together."

this was by far one of the most peculiar offers you had received but this was THE stranger offer you came to france seeking.

you know sunoo would not advocate for numerous reasons and you can hear his voice already 

"number one, dangerous"

"number two, dangerous!"

"number three, DANGEROUS!"

but sunoo isn't here right now. you chose to grab the opportunity. france had provided you luck today.

"alright then"

a moment of silence goes by before you hear him clearing his throat.

"you're serious right?"

he glances at you and your eyes lock. though you can't see that well due to the absence of light, you nod.

the eiffel tower gave you enough light that you could make our curious eyes, tall nose, fair skin that radiated in the soft lighting, and full lips that were curved into a smile

"i'll see you at the lobby at eight,"

next morning

to say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. you agreed to a stranger who claimed to know paris like the back of his palm. you met him off your balcony and now you were agreeing to go a date with him? 

"you must be out of your mind!" sunoo exclaimed through the phone.

"well yes i must have been at 8 pm last night when fatigue was hitting the hardest but how can i say no now?"

"i don't know maybe, I DON'T KNOW YOU STRANGER DANGER?" sunoo shouts

and like you foretold last night, sunoo was not a big supporter of this idea. over the course of fifteen minutes, you had been continuously scolded by him.

you cringe, " sunoo, i promise that i'll be fine. i just need you to help me pick out an outfit"

sunoo rolls his eyes, "what are your options?"

though sunoo wasn't supportive of this, he couldn't let you go on a date without style.

you held up two choices; a blue floral dress that settled to your mid-thigh and a pink tennis skirt with a white cami shirt.

"well do we like this guy or do we like LIKE this guy?" sunoo questioned.

"what- well i literally met him last night? so i don't even like him, we're just going out for this one day since he offered"

"uh-huh, then the blue floral dress, it's hot there right?" sunoo says

"super hot," you groan.

you glance at the time, 7:00 am.

"i have to start getting ready sunoo, i'll update you later alright?" you smile

"alright, try not to get killed but have fun too! love you"

"love you too," you say back before hanging up.

you quickly hop in the shower and make sure to not take too long.

doing skincare, putting on the outfit, and spraying a little bit of perfume, you are ready to head out the door.

one last check to make sure you have all the things.

7:58 am

you quickly head down to see several people in the lobby.

a bellman, a pair of teenage girls who seemed like they were dragged here, a couple around the mid-40s trying to check-in, and a teenage boy that rested on one of the lobby seats.

it was evident who the balcony boy was but you just called out to be safe.

"balcony boy," you say.

the teenage boy that was seated turns around before flashing you a smile. 

"miss singer,"

you airly chuckle at the nickname.

observing him in person was a lot different. you could see his long body proportion, bright eyes, sharp jawline, with fair skin that complimented his rich brown hair.

a distinct experience from seeing him on the balcony.

"i'm (y/n)! and you?" you ask

"i'm lee heeseung"

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