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#I’m just… I’m tired. I want to vent. I just want to spill my guts for an hour and maybe cry a lot

rune-tisms · 2 months

Text

me: okay time to enjoy my last day of the long weekend ^_^

computer: stops functioning correctly

shower: water’s too cold to take one

computer: not able to be fixed anytime soon

my cat: haven’t seen her all day, starting to get worried

me:

me: okay new plan

me: how about i kms

#i’m so tired #too many things went wrong today #it’s these things that push me so close to the edge of truly losing my shit #and just doing something terrible that i’ll regret #one day it’ll happen #i’ll be pushed too far istg #then i’m gonna spill my guts everywhere because I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE #i wanna explode #i want to blow up literally #please just end my suffering already GOD #okay sorry about this i just need to be dramatic #i’m fine #i promise #:3 #vent #vent tw

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 11 months

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May i request a wild ride with no. 15, 20 and 21 for Dean winchester? Rest is up to you. thanks and congrats on 3k, your stories are awesome😘❤

He Fell Harder

Dean Winchester x plus size reader

Dean finally gets his chance to tell her how he feels, after they escape a bunch of hungry ghouls of course

Warnings: canon level violence, kidnapping, mutual pining, implied smut, little bit of nudity, confessions

WC: 1.7k

Minors DNI

3000 Follower Celebration

Frustrated, you screamed at the solid iron door that sealed you into this hell-hole where you had been trapped for days or maybe it had been weeks, it was hard to tell. The walls surrounding you were cool to the touch. The smell of mould and mildew blanketing you as you slumped down to the concrete floor, consumed by the pitch black around you. You had no weapons, no plan, no escape. All you could do was sit here and wait for whatever the ghoul that jumped you had planned.

“Sweetheart?” The voice that floated through the vent far above your head sounded familiar, much like the voice of your best friend and the man you had been in love with since you saved him from a vamp three years ago.

“Dean?” You croaked, your head unconsciously tilting back as if it would allow you to hear him better. You hear him chuckle dryly, like he always did when he was anxious or unsure. Your heart fluttered, glad that you weren’t completely alone. “Boy am I glad to hear your dumb voice. How long have I been down here?”

There was a beat of silence. “You’ve been missing for almost two months.” He said bluntly and if you weren’t mistaken, with a tone of deep guilt. The air was knocked from your lungs.

“I’ve been here for that long?” You asked weakly, your body all of a sudden feeling incredibly tired and sore, like your willpower was ripped from you. Dean’s sigh carried through the humid air.

“I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner sweetheart. These fuckers were smart, they even got the work-around Sammy.”

“And you?” You playfully asked, getting a groan in return. “How the fuck did some lousy ghouls get the jump on the great Dean Winchester?” The chill from the concrete wall at your back was slowly seeping through the measly layers you had on and yet you didn’t want to move away.

“I was distracted.” He replied simply and you could almost see the way his plump lower lip jutted out in a toddler-like pout. “It’s not my fault.”

You giggled half-heartedly as you brought your knees up to your chest. “Whatever could distract you must be pretty fucking magnificent.”

“Yeah she is.” He murmured lowly, but you heard him all the same. Your heart dropped to your stomach. You should’ve expected it, Dean was famous for his womanising, even going so far as to abandon a hunt for a night with a gorgeous woman.

“Tell me about her.” You knew it would hurt, that listening to him talk about this mysterious woman would tear you apart, but you needed the comfort of his voice right now.

Dean cleared his throat. “Well she’s insanely attractive. I mean just legs for days and an ass that would make a grown man cry. Don’t even get me started on how absolutely gorgeous her eyes are.” You scoffed at his crudeness but he only chuckled and continued. “But more than that, she’s crazy smart and she’s by far the kindest person I’ve ever met. She’s a little dumb, I mean who challenges me to a pie-eating contest! And even more than that, she’s my best friend and I would do anything for her, including getting kidnapped by a bunch of ghouls just so I could hear her voice again.”

With each word he spoke, the heat in the derelict dungeon seemed to grow. Warmth crawled up your neck, settling on the apple of your cheeks. “And right now, all I care about is how quiet she is after I just spilled my damn heart out to her.”

“Dean-“ You started but were quickly interrupted by the door to your cell slamming open and bright light flooding in. A shadowy figure loomed in the entryway, the stench of blood and rotting guts following them like some sick perfume. “Dean!” You screeched as you attempted to scramble to the furthest corner of the room.

The light glinted off its teeth. “Oh the sweet smell of fear.” It cooed. “Makes the meat so much more tender.”

There was a thudding from the wall. “Don’t you dare fucking touch her!” It just rolled its eyes at Dean’s protest.

The uneven concrete cut into your palms as you planted your feet so you could jump the ghoul before it got too close. It smirked, as if it already knew you were too weak to do anything. “Y/N!” Your legs trembled as you put more of your weight on them, threatening to give out at any moment.

The ghoul snarled. “He won’t be able to help you now.” It darted at you.

Feigning to the left, you narrowly missed its claws. The ghoul slammed painfully into the wall behind where you just were. There was a grizzly-sounding crunch and then a brief moment of silence. You attempted to stand but your knees buckled and you slammed back into the floor. But you couldn’t stop moving, not when it quickly righted itself and began towards you again. “You bitch!” It hissed.

As desperation sank into your bones, you began to crawl towards the open door. The muscles in your arms screamed but you had to get out. A hand closed around your ankle and tugged you backwards, sending you sprawling on the ground. “Get off!” You kicked back, but after months with limited food, it served to only push its jaw away from your leg.

“Y/N!” Dean’s voice was muffled and far away, barely audible over the loud banging that reverberated through the halls, or was it your head? It was hard to tell. Weakly, you clawed for anything you could use as a weapon, the ghoul steadily getting dangerously close to you.

Your vision spun as you were suddenly on your back, the ghoul hovering above you. “I think I’m going to make this last. Eat you nice and slow, make your boyfriend listen to every scream that comes out of that stupid mouth of yours. And then, right as you’re about to die from either the pain or the blood-loss, I’ll bring him over so he can watch as the light fades from your eyes.”

Its face got closer and closer, and then, it was gone. The weight was yanked from your chest with a blur of red and black plaid, the ghoul’s screeching making your head throb. There was the sound of cracking bones, and then nothing.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” You hadn’t realised that you passed out until you opened your eyes. Cringing at the bright light above you, you groaned and buried your face in your soft arms.

“Too bright.”

“Shit, yeah, just one sec.” The light flicked off and you breathed a sigh of relief. Now that it was darker, you felt more confident in opening your eyes once more. The sight you were greeted with was one that you were used to- the shitty decorations, dusty mattress below and couch that should have been torched 20 years ago. You were safe.

“How’d you get us out? Wait how the fuck am I even alive? I was sure that I was toast.” Dean appeared in your eye-line then as he plopped down on the bed beside you. His green eyes were bloodshot and he had dark bags beneath them.

“If we’re being honest, I don’t really remember. I remember you screaming and then I was pounding on the door trying to get to you and somehow it just caved in. The last thing I remember is beating that fucker’s face in.” Your eyebrows scrunched.

“Dean, there was a whole pack of them. There’s no way you killed all of them while also having to drag me out of there.” He scoffed and laid down next to you, taking your hand into his own.

“I don’t know what to tell you sweetheart. But we’re out and you’re safe, that’s the only thing that matters.” Your fingers intertwined and you pulled his hand to your chest.

“Your safety matters too D.” He shook his head, his dirty blond hair now sticking up messily. He squeezed your fingers.

“Not when it comes to you.” Dean’s eyes flicked to your lips. “I would do anything to keep you safe.”

The tip of your nose brushed against his as his free hand came up to cup your full cheek. “You’re my everything.” And then he kissed you.

Slow and sweet, barely even a peck but as you tried to pull him closer to you, desperate for him, Dean rolled on top of you. His strong body fit beautifully between your plush thighs, his weight on top of you being a comfort rather than the terror from the ghoul’s. Your arms wound around his neck as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss even more.

“Dean.” You moaned into his mouth as the hand that was once holding yours now rested on your wide hip, pinning you to him. He groaned at the strung-out sound of your voice.

“Fuck baby. Can I see you?” You nodded but still whined as he pulled away from you. He smirked confidently. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m right here.” His touch skirted beneath your skirt, sending ripples of anticipation through you. The fabric followed his rough hands, slowly creeping up, exposing your body to him in a way that you had both only dreamed about.

Dean sucked in a breath as he finally pulled the shirt from you, leaving you in just a bra. “Holy shit you’re gorgeous.” You smiled bashfully in return.

“Your turn.” Moving faster than you’ve ever seen, Dean ripped all of his layers off in one go, throwing the small pile of fabrics over his shoulder like they had burned him. “Damn Winchester, how have you been hiding all this from me for so long?” Your fingers traced up the softness of his belly, coming to rest above his heart, right where his tattoo was.

“Believe me sweetheart, if it were up to me, you could’ve seen this two years ago.” He reached for your jeans, unbuttoning them quickly so he could shuck them down your shapely legs.

“Two years!” You yelped, “We’ve known each other for three!” He looked away sheepishly, focusing on the panties that still covered you.

“Not my fault. You were goddamn terrifying.” You scoffed as he settled between your legs, throwing them over his broad shoulders.

“Yeah well you’re just scared of powerful women. Let me tell you-“

“Sweetheart, sweetheart. Will you just shut up and let me go down on you?” He pleaded, tugging at the cotton that stretched across your pelvis.

Your mouth snapped shut. “Good, now let me eat.”

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1d1195 · 2 months

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I’m going to vomit that was so cute!!! I love them so much. This suited them perfectly. Be kinder to yourself. It was beautifully written. -🐱

So good to hear from you!!! 💕💕💕 you’re so nice and sweet! I can always count on you for encouragement and kindness! When I saw the little preview of your message I LAUGHED in my car out loud. I say that kind of thing all the time 😂

I’m still terrible at being kind to myself. It’s crazy you still notice that, lol. Until I get some therapy under my belt I think I’m just going to be mean to myself. It’s not just here, but in every facet of my life 🙃🙃 I know I’m hard on myself but I just don’t know. I feel like my writing is just not it anymore. I know people are busy and I completely respect that. But I think people are tired of me. I see a lot of my favorite writers getting lots of interaction on everything they post. At worst I’m extremely jealous of them, and at best I’m just sad I’m not writing what people want to read :( I have so many more ideas and things I want to write (and I probably will still write them) but I feel like I’m becoming obsolete here, rapidly. I don’t think people want to read my stuff anymore because honestly it’s not filled with smut, and I get that. It’s just frustrating. I see the end of my blog coming faster every day.

I’m so sorry for venting on the first message you sent me after a bit of time apart. I didn’t mean to do that. You bring so much comfort to my mind I just end up spilling my guts without thinking.

Thank you for being so supportive. You’re one of my favorites and I will adore you for forever 💕☺️ I hope you’ve been well. I would love to hear what’s going on in your life if you feel like sharing 💕 I’ve genuinely missed you and I think about you often and how you’re doing—but especially when someone mentions/likes/reblogs Made to Be because you were so kind and so supportive throughout most of it, I never imagined writing a 10-part+ series until you were in my life 💕💕

Thank you for your message. Seeing your emoji always makes me smile.

Xoxo

#🐱#zipper

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thehalfgayloser · 6 months

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I’m miserable.

I’m using this time as a place to vent. I just need to, and nobody irl follows me on here, so I’ll just spill it all.

Basically, I got into a relationship way too quickly with a guy, I got into one the day I met him. I was extremely desperate for a relationship, and I ignored all his red flags. Saturday morning I found out he was deliberately ignoring me for days straight while he talked with everyone else completely fine. He also said we were “just friends” behind my back. I texted him and told him we were done, and that my friend (who he dated beforehand) was right, he is an asshole. I did so on both Messages and Snap. He responded to me a few mins later on Snap, saying that he was trying to come up with the right words to say he just wanted to be friends, and he was in a bad place mentally.

What I didn’t understand is why he didn’t tell me outright. He said he wanted to take things slow, but this was my first relationship and I thought he meant we were still going to be in a relationship, not just friends. He also said he was on the verge of relapsing (which struck me as kinda acting like the victim). I then got really pissed and said he was never fucking sorry, he never fucking told me goddamn shit. I then called him a bunch of unrepeatable names, and told him to go fuck himself. I unadded him after that and began to tell my friends about what happened.

I called his ex (who is my friend), and she said that I was doing the right thing. She has been on my side this entire time, and I thank her deeply for that. He added me back an hour later, and by then, I was EXTREMELY pissed off with him. I told him to khs, and I said I hope he loses everything. I was definitely the asshole there. He blocked me on everything after that, and it’s day one today without him. I feel honestly depressed and tired, like mentally burnt-out.

Thankfully, my friends have been consistently checking in on me, and I owe them all my life for that. My ex and I did manage to apologize and shit to each other after one of his friends added us in a gc and told us to talk it out so we wouldn’t leave on horrible terms. Of course, I still hate his guts to no end, because he shattered my heart and has made me dread going to school on Tuesday, but it’s not as bad as it was. I know I’ll be bombarded with questions and “I told you so’s” when I enter the school, but it’ll only happen for probably 3 weeks max, and maybe I won’t kill myself from everything.

Needless to say, within one day, my life has gone to bullshit.

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falling-pages · 3 years

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Bend the Knee: Kyoya x Reader

Thanks @ouranbound for the idea <3

“I fear I’ve been so busy planning our future that I did not give time to notice how they were exploiting your present."

Sometimes Kyoya's betrothed needs help adjusting from their commoner life to one of splendor.

Kyoya Ootori x gn! Reader

Genre: Fluff, established relationship, arranged marriage, Commoner! Reader

Warnings: None

“Quit.”

“What?”

“Quit. You complain about that job every night, so just resign.”

You sit up on the couch, gasping to even begin to make the young heir understand how preposterous his words were. He barely even noticed, just kept his eyes glued to his novel as you were having a crisis. Just another normal Tuesday in this household. “I can’t quit just like that, without two weeks’ notice.”

“The other employees did.”

“But I’m their best,” you scramble, “I can’t bail while they’re still looking for two more people.”

Kyoya scoffed, licking his fingertip and turning a page. “Is that how they treat their best? Overworked and underpaid? They don’t sound like very good bosses to me.”

“It’s not that, it’s…”

It was that. It was exactly that, which made his smug smile all the more frustrating, igniting that fire under your nails to just punch his lights out. But then you’d have to admit it’s bothering you, and he would win, and even though you were engaged to marry this man, you just couldn’t have that.

You ran your hands through your hair, dropping back down onto the couch. His office futon wasn’t comfortable in the slightest, perhaps to discourage relaxation during work hours, but it’s what you dealt with in order to spend time with him in the evenings, a change you would certainly implement once your name was on the deed and in the will--a revamp of his working space was imperative.

But you supposed you couldn’t complain. It was your little life together, where he manages a multi-billion dollar empire and you whine about your job, where he pretends to not pay attention while you spill your guts. What was the sense in commenting when he knew you wouldn’t take his advice?

“I’ve worked hard for this position,” you settle on, closing your eyes and letting your brain do the work. “I’ve climbed the ladder and gotten promotions and I used to feel so important, and it isn’t my dream job, sure, but I’ve enjoyed the process.”

“Then it’s time to move on to something different,” he suggests, and his tone is softer than usual, though still careful to sound detached. “You know I have more than enough money to provide for you and our family someday. Is that not enough?”

You open your eyes when the voice sounds closer, right above you, and you see him kneeling down beside you on the couch. You start to sit up, but he pushes you back down, helping you stretch out your spine, shake out the stresses in your limbs. And when he takes your hand, drawing his long fingers over the arch of your wrist and against your palm, you were startled to see him at eye-level.

Kyoya Ootori bent his knee to no one except you, and only once, when he slipped that pretty gold ring on your finger. But here where you lay, your faces were on the same level, and you felt like an equal.

“The world I come from isn’t black and white, Kyoya,” you say, as he strokes the back of your knuckles. Such tenderness was seldom seen from him, but you revel in it, grasp onto it with dirty fists and brazen recklessness. To have him so attentive to your needs and listening to you was rare. It was a privilege, a standard you would soon be held to, as well. “To be just...launched into fame because my dad won the lottery is hard, I still need to adjust. It can all be gone in a second, so I can’t just drop something. I can’t...sever the safety net. They need me to keep the place afloat, and even as tough as it has been, I can’t leave on such bad terms. They need me. Just for a little bit longer.”

He sighs your name like the afterthought of a prayer, settling his other hand beside you on the couch. His fingers dig into every indentation, as if joining your discovery of its stiff cushions. The sheen in his glasses signaled he’d look into it, but there were more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.

He remained silent, odd for a man with all the answers, but he continued to look at you, not like he was trying to drill a hole through your head, but like you were a puzzle he was just beginning to figure out.

“Have I really been so absent, my love?” he whispered, raising his hand to your face. One finger stroked along your cheek, slowly, lulling you into peace. “I fear I’ve been so busy planning our future that I did not give time to notice how they were exploiting your present. Please, forgive me.”

All of the air was knocked out of your chest as his gentle words, so soft that you almost didn’t recognize him. When your parents betrothed you, and when you fell in love with him, agreed to marry him, even, you knew that he would always be an Ootori, with every string attached. You were ready for the challenge, ready to be with this man no matter what--but his sudden kindness was unexpected, the poetic words unfamiliar in your ears.

“Kyo, you think I wouldn’t forgive you?” you ask, taking off his glasses.

He let you, and when you set them on the nearby stand, his dark eyes glittered with something you had never seen before. Deeper than love, deeper than compassion, a feral protectiveness mixed with sadness skating across his face. It was so rare you saw him without this shield of his, you had almost forgotten how his eyes were like galaxies, like the murky night sky, expansive, swallowing everything in its path.

“If I had been suffering so, I wouldn’t forgive my partner had they not noticed,” he said.

“I’m not suffering...”

“Mmm-mm.” He shuttered your lips closed with his finger, and you couldn’t help but return the affection and press a kiss to it. He smiled, softly, and you thought about how long it had been since you had seen that smile, and how long it had been since he’s seen yours, too.

“I know I’m not the best at expressing my feelings,” he said, and when you snorted, he rolled his eyes and leaned away. “See, this is exactly why.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek, giggling. The feeling was foreign in the pit of your chest, drumming near your spine. “I’m sorry. Please, continue.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, softly wiping where you had kissed him, a repetitive, soothing motion. “I’m not the best at expressing my feelings. I’ve been raised to think that if you throw money at something, it will go away. It’s a powerful position to hold, knowing you can change everyone’s fates on a whim, but…” he swallowed, breaking eye contact, and you felt his energy shift into something vulnerable. “But you changed that. You make me feel...you make me feel. And at first I didn’t like it. I loved you, but I didn’t like what you did to me. I didn’t like how you made my world shift off-balance, until I realized my world was no longer my family’s company or stocks or what other stiffs thought of me. It was you.”

You tried to lean up and kiss him, but he grabbed your hands and held them in his own. “Please, let me finish, I want...I want you to know. We’ve been betrothed for so long, but I’d like to think we were only truly engaged when I bowed to you with that ring.”

“Okay,” you breathed, shallowly, taking it in, squeezing his hands to help him along.

“Because that took everything in me,” he continued, and his voice shook, his hands shook, and all you wanted was to gather him in your arms and hold him till he relaxed. “I was raised as a superior, but I’m not. Not with you. You are my equal, and I love you, and there’s no future with us if I can’t look beyond my own problems to see yours.”

Your stomach quelled in light of his confession. The life of luxury and fame you had so recently come to know was a blur compared to his childhood swathed in privilege. Only six years ago you were waiting tables to save up for college when your dad bought a lottery ticket for the hell of it. Now you were attending charity balls and engaged to the son of the richest man on earth.

He took a shaky breath and kissed your forehead, seeming to only find the courage once his lips met your skin.

“I notice. I swear I do,” he said. “I tried to act disinterested when you vent to me because it was a protection, it was a way to stay cold, because that was all I ever saw from my mother and father. They were separate people who happened to live in the same house. That’s not us. I’m not my father. I swear I notice. I notice your tired eyes and your tense shoulders and your fake smile and I want to fix it, but I don’t know how, so I clam up. I shut down. And I’m sorry. I truly am, my darling. I don’t know how you put up with me.”

It was an absolute miracle that you could even breathe at the end of his speech, panting almost as heavily as he was. And when you leaned forward to kiss him, this time he didn’t object, but pulled you even closer, shrouding your body with his, his sharp scent overwhelming your senses, clouding the air around you, even when there was no distance between you. His mouth was hot with passion, yet reserved, and though it wasn’t the first time you kissed, it was the first time you thought he meant it when he told you he loved you.

“Kyoya, I love you,” you whisper against his lips. “I have for so long. I wouldn’t have stayed with you if I didn’t, no matter what our parents said.” He laughed, nipping your bottom lip lightly. “And I don’t want you to change for me. You’re under so much pressure, I understand why you act like you do. But our home isn’t Wall Street. My heart isn’t some business bargaining chip. You don’t need to fight your nature to love me. It’s one and the same.” One of his tears splashes down onto your face. “So just see me. Love me. Choose to be vulnerable. I promise it won’t scare me off.”

“I will. I promise.”

He kissed you again, burning his brand against your tongue, hard like a handshake to know he meant it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, like you were breathing the same air, using the same lungs, the same heart beating in tandem.

When you let go, his forehead remained pressed against yours. His eyes were slightly open, watching you, eyelashes fluttering against your skin. He was so soft, like this. You wanted to hold him forever.

“Come to bed with me,” you whisper, trailing a hand through his hair. “I just want to spend time with you.”

He kissed your forehead, rubbing his nose against yours in compliance. “I’ll spend all the time in the world with you, beloved,” he sighed, capturing your lips once more. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

Kofi

#ouran high school host club #kyoya ootori #kyoya x reader #kyoya ootori x reader #ohshc

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yanyanfeii · 3 years

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No One Quite Like Her

Kang Sae byeok x GN reader

❝ i found love in a hopeless place ❝

Warning: angst, death episode 6 spoilers!!!

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

⚛︎the thought of falling in love at a place where death loomed around every corner and being together was impossible, wasn’t exactly an ideal circumstance...

⚛︎ yet here you were, falling head over heels for a girl that you couldn’t even name. The only thing you could adress her by was the pale white number patch on her turquoise blue jacket. Number 067, the girl who had seemed to stole your heart without even speaking to you at all.

⚛︎you had sense made it your goal to stay as far away from her as possible, but when one day while sitting alone, she approached you. Her deep chocolate eyes with dark circles under them, lazily gazing up at you. In a husky voice she asked, more of a statement than a question. “Join me?” Her hand stretched out in a welcoming manner, though her expression remained flat.

⚛︎without a second thought you found your hand in her’s. Her calcoused palm and slim fingers gently gripped your hand, giving it a light shake to seal the partnership. Your heart fluttered in your chest as her eyes met yours. Her short choppy bangs hanging just above her sharp eyes. Though as soon as the contact happened, it ended as she took her hand back, slipping it into her jacket pocket and strolling off.

⚛︎next you knew you were sitting in a circle of people awaiting instructions for your next game.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

⚛︎you had lived. You made it through another game. And oh hell were you so thankful that the goddess herself had invited you to join her. Who knew where you’d be if she hadn’t. In hell probably...

⚛︎you absently followed behind 067, as everyone began to collect their food rations for the evening. You didn’t know why you followed her all the way back to her bed, but here you were. Standing above her as she tiredly muched on a piece of bread, smothered in butter.

⚛︎ “if your planning to kill me you’re doing a shit job.” She finally spoke. Her head remained down, too busy to even look up. “Luckily I’m not here to kill you.” You replied taking a seat down on the edge of her bed. Her eyes widened slightly as she moved further away from you, ready to kill if need be.

⚛︎ “whats your name?” You asked turning to face her. She scowled. “Why?” You shrugged with a small smile. “Kang Sae-Byeok.” She spoke with a small growl in her tone. “I’m y/n, nice to meet you.” You replied. You finally knew her name... “why are you here?” You asked, so casually as if it wasn’t a huge invasion of privacy.

⚛︎she glared at you. You felt your breath catch in your throat as you gulped. If looks could kill, you’d be a goner. “Never mind, that was rude of me to ask.” You let out a soft chuckle. “Sorry.” You apologized as she looked away from you, her knee brought up to her chin. That was all you got out of her. You got up uncomfortable and left to go to your own bed.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

⚛︎the morning bell rung through your ears. what a way to wake up. You rubbed your head and followed the orders the masked men gave you. Was it bad that this had become your new normal?

⚛︎ ordered to pair up, the thought of Sae-byeok immediately came to mind. Your eyes scanned the room for any trace of the freckle faced girl. Luckily you found her leaning up against the wall, hands in her pockets and eyes dull and tired. You couldn’t understand how someone in these circumstances could still be so utterly breathtaking.

⚛︎ “pair up with me?” You asked, sounding as certain as you could. Your hand was now the one extended towards her cold aura. “And why would I?” She replied. “Because I’ll make sure you win, no matter what.”

⚛︎ she has reluctantly agreed. You shook her hand, but this time you didn’t let go. As the masked men gave you all instructions, guns loaded and pointed at your heads. You still kept your hand grasping hers. She didn’t complain.

⚛︎ the sight of artificial orange painted sky’s was almost as beautiful as the real thing. It seemed as if it was just a taste of the outside for what you would soon know to be your last. As the speaker from above told you that only one of the people in the pairs would make it out alive, a pit formed in your stomach.

⚛︎ you dropped her hand from your grasp, as your eyes fell to the dirt that your feet kicked at. Sae-byeok didn’t speak either. Not that she did much anyways. You took a seat on the stairs, patting a seat beside you. She carefully sat down beside you, an unreadable expression on her chiseled features.

⚛︎ “what will we play?” Sae-byeok asked breaking the silence. “Slow down, we got time.” You hummed. “Let’s end it in just one round. Until then...” you thought of what to say next. “Let’s just chat, like one of use isn’t about to kick it.” You said mustering up a smile. She gave a slight nod, hands clamped together in her lap. She didn’t look all that pleased about one of us dying either.

⚛︎ it was your chance now. To get to know who she was. You asked her questions, real personal ones and she answered honestly. You could hear the hurt in her tone as she talked about her family. At some point you found that the two of you had moved closer together, your thighs now touching and your hand resting on her shoulder as comfort as she vented.

⚛︎ nextly she asked about you. She wanted to know more about you, and you couldn’t help but spill your guts out over all the things you’d never told anyone. Now she was the one who had a hand placed on your lower back in comfort, as your eyes became glossy.

⚛︎ you glanced up at the clock. Time was running short. Only about 5 minutes left. You abruptly stood up, startling the calm and composed female beside you. “Let’s get our game started.” You suggested, she gave a nod, standing up beside you. “Who ever can throw the marble closer to the wall will win.” You explained in a calm tone.

⚛︎ “you can go first.” You gave a reassuring half hearted smile as you knew what would be coming next. Sae-byeok rolled her marble across the dirt, close to the wall. “Good job! My turn.” You bent down pretending to care, then dropping the marble only a few centimeters in front of you. “Oops, it slipped. Looks like you win.” Her eyes darkened...

⚛︎ “do it again.” She ordered. “Looks like you won.” You forced another smile, but your eyes were dull and teary. Her hands grabbed roughly onto your collar, pushing you against the brick wall. “Is this what you meant when you said I’d win if I teamed up with you?” Her voice wavered as her brows furrowed angrily. You shrugged. Sweat dropped from her face and her jaw clenched.

⚛︎ tears trickled from her eyes, down her flushed cheeks. You could feel you were now crying too. “If this is it let me tell you one more thing.” Your hand reached out to cup her cheek. Your thumb rubbed under her eye, brushing away the flowing tears. Her eyes widened as you leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. You wished it could’ve lasted longer but you knew your time was up. “Get out of here alive for me, okay?” Your hands lingered on her face before slipping to your sides once again.

⚛︎ a masked man approach you with a gun loaded, ready to end your life with a single shot. “Don’t look.” You whispered as you gently pushed her away. Her back turned towards you reluctantly. “Thanks, for playing with me.” Was your last words as tears spilled uncontrollably from your hues. The gun’s boom echoed across the plain,ending your life. That was the last thing you’d ever hear, and the last sight you’d ever see was the girl’s back, who you had fell in love with.

⚛︎ if only you could see her face, smiling. Just one last time...

#067 x reader #player 067 #067 #squid game x you #squid game x reader #squid game #kang sae byeok x reader #kang sae byeok #sae byeok #sae byeok x reader

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adonis-koo · 3 years

Text

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

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

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.

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

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actual-fucking-clown · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can I request a mini fic of Natsuo venting to his bf (male reader) about all the fam drama and it’s just full of comfort and kisses and cuddles and all that fluff. Natsuo for life!

yes. mhm. yup. your wish is my command anon. I've never written for male reader but for you, anon my beloved, yes :)

I realized I didn’t really specify gender, sorry bout that

ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE NATSUO SLANDER I SAW WHEN THIS HOE FINALLY GOT PROPERLY ANIMATED? whack ass hoes rly out here victim shaming a dude like sheesh not cool. maybe there might not have been on here but I saw way too much on twt let me tell you ohhhh boy but that’s for a different post TLDR: NATSUO FOR LIFE

warnings: uh MANGA SPOILERS, ANGST OBVI, me projecting my thoughts on the todoroki drama just a bit, curse words, reader says something suggestive once, family issues, i think you get the gist

It was midnight when he returned home. The lights in his little apartment were still on and he was too tired to really question why. He was not surprised to find you waiting up for him. You had a nasty habit of doing so, especially on nights like tonight. Nights where he had to visit his family. You sat there, scrolling through your phone on the couch, and perked up when you heard him come in. You flashed him a bright smile that momentarily melted all his troubles away. It was a moment of pure peace, solace, a moment where he had forgotten about what had occurred. He moved to sit next to you, immediately wrapping his arms around you and burying his head into the crook of your neck. You mumbled a greeting to him as you ran your hands gently through his hair.

“That bad?” You mused, only earning a groan in response, telling you everything you needed to know.

“Wanna talk about it? Or we could do something else to take your mind off it. Either one works for me.” You shrug and Natsuo considers that second option for a second before deciding against it. He’s learned that he feels less shitty when he actually talks about his feelings so, that’s what he does.

“God where do I even start? It’s a train wreck as soon as I step foot in that damned place. You know I love my siblings but why can’t we be fucking normal for a second? I know that’s what Fuyumi’s trying to do but I don’t know if I’ll be able to move forward like she wants in good conscience, y’know?” Natsuo pauses to catch his breath, he tends to run out of breath mid rant too often. You shift so that the both of you are in a more comfortable position and so that his rant isn’t muffled into the crook of your neck. He’s besides you, his arms firmly wrapped around your abdomen, the side of his face rests against your chest. Your arms wrapped around him—one hand still running through his hair as the other had shifted to rub his back.

“It is totally valid for her to be okay with like forgiving him and whatnot and it’s totally cool for Shoto to be like partially open to the idea but I just can’t. I don’t know if I’ll ever be honestly....” He trails off for a moment and you can feel his grip tightening on your shirt. He was hesitant to voice his next thought.

You urge him softly to go on, but there’s always the unspoken option to drop it. He knows that you’d never force him to talk about anything he wasn’t comfortable with. He really wanted to be honest with you and honest with himself but it was hard. He steeled himself, took a breath and finally managed to say what had been troubling him the most.

“Everyone's decided to forgive him, or at least see what he can do from here but I know I can’t and I know I don’t want to. That’s the only thing in this dumpster fire of family drama that I’m entirely sure of but...” He has to take one more deep breath before spilling his guts.

“Is that selfish of me? All the others are trying but I don’t want to. I’m not comfortable doing so but does that make me somehow wrong?” He finally blurts out and you’re quick to reassure him.

“Of course you’re not wrong! And you’re not selfish either!” You start, your sentences clipped because you decided that now was also the perfect time to smother him in kisses. You knew he preferred physical reassurance along with verbal, especially on nights like these.

“From what I understand your father was toxic and now he wants to try again. Just because the rest of your family is willing—whether that be entirely or just slightly—to forgive him doesn’t mean you have to. You have come to the conclusion that he is not worth expanding energy on so you want to cut him out, that’s 100% valid. There is no one right reaction to this, any choice you make is valid and it is right. Just because you chose not to forgive him doesn’t mean that the rest of your family is on some moral high ground. Forgiving an abuser and cutting ties with them are both valid responses. No one is better than you because they decided that they want to forgive their abuser. Whatever happens in the long run you need to understand that your choices are valid and should not be compared to others in such a way.” Every so often you’d pause to kiss him anywhere you physically could. By the end of your rant you were sure you’d kissed every bit of skin available to you in your position. He’d seemed much calmer too so you were sure that the combination of kisses and reassuring words and cuddles had taken effect on him.

He’s glad that he’d voiced his worries to you. He’s glad that you’d listen to him whenever he needed, even if it meant forsaking some important task. He needed this and you were happy to provide.

After more cuddling and kisses he was eventually able to fall asleep.

That night he slept easier.

I hope you enjoyed and I hope you have a lovely morning/afternoon/night!!!

#natsuo x reader #natsuo todoroki #natsuo todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #Would die for him #Your honor #he deserves the world #partially based off fucking assholes on twt victim shaming him #like get over yourselves #smfh #mha xreader #bnha x reader #mha #bnha

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dancingstarsbornfromchaos · 3 years

Text

So, this is a piece of vent writing I wrote a couple of years ago. I found it almost by chance on my old writing blog and it really struck something inside me, especially since I’ve particularly struggling with these very same feelings all over again in the past year and a half.

It’s mostly just me unloading all the intrusive thoughts in my head, but I like to think that it can be also a very personal take on mental illness, depression, self-loathing, social anxiety and a lot more (from the POV of someone who has BPD). And for that reason I think it might be worth sharing it again.

CW: mentions of self-harm, depression, suicidal thoughts, violent fantasies

“Smile”

Smile. Bottle everything up, hide it in the shadows, don’t let the light shine on it. Close your eyes, slip on your mask and go out, face the world. Don’t let them see the darkness that rages on the inside. Don’t let them taste the bitterness that’s slowly drowning you. Don’t let them feel the heat that consumes your every thought.

Smile. Let jokes and dismissal spill from your lips. Cover everything in sarcasm, with every fake breath you take. Keep your act up, don’t allow yourself a single slip. Practise your speeches and your expressions when alone, in front of the mirror, and make sure that they are enough to hide your real face. Repair the cracks, refine the words. Hide the scars.

Smile. It’s what I do. I curl my lips around the empty shadow of emotions I don’t feel, use them to give my voice a tone that’s nothing but a well-practiced act. I’ve learnt what people want to hear, what they want to see. I’ve learnt how to pretend to be something I’m not. I’ve learnt to speak truths I don’t believe in, to fake reactions I’ll never have. I let the world have what it demands from me. It’s easier, on the long term, but it’s consuming too. It drains all the energies, it makes me sicker and sicker. It makes me reach out for coping mechanisms that do nothing but disintegrating me even further. Piece by piece. Cut after cut. Because I can’t afford to stay whole, not when there’s so much to do. Not when there are so many fights I can’t lose. Not when there are so many eyes staring down at me, with their blind expectations.

Smile. I take a breath, open my eyes, put on my show. And yet, I can’t help wondering, at times. Can no one the cracks in my mask? How empty my smile is? How fake my laughs and words and gestures are? Can no one see the dark emptiness in my eyes? Have I really become that good? Or is the world so blind and uncaring that it can’t even see past my worst slips? And, more importantly, does it really matter? Perhaps, whatever the answer is, it will make no difference. I’ll still have to lock all I feel and think and am away and…

Smile. At times I marvel at how exhausting such a small gesture can be. How much energy it takes to make it seem natural, to make it see true. How hard it can be to try and patch up an abyss with a band aid. And I also marvel at the power a single, well-chosen word can have, at how many shadows and inconvenient truths you can cover up with a couple of syllables. Speak them with the right intonation, the right expression, the right tilt of your head, the right gesture, and no one will ever question you. No one will ever see what you’re truly thinking behind that ugly, fake, dull grin of yours. Such power. But the price, oh the price. No discounts allowed. And at times it’s too high, too out of reach. Yet, I can’t afford not to pay it. So, I tear away another piece of myself and hand it over, to compensate. And I wonder: what will I do when there will be nothing left to give? Nothing left of me?

“I’m fine,” is what I say. “I couldn’t be further from fine,” is what I mean. I’m angry, I’m tired, I’m sad. I’m broken, I can hardly keep myself together. Can’t you see? My muscles are so tense. My jaw hurts for how hard I’m clenching my teeth. And I’m screaming so loud inside my head. How is it that you can’t hear it when I’m here, going deaf? And yet, all you see is my fake smile.

“It doesn’t matter,” is what I say. “Of course it does, you fucking jackass,” is what I mean. I’m hanging by a thread that gets thinner and thinner every day. I can’t afford to have this small bit of ground under my feet been taken away. And yet I let it crumble a little more every day, because I can’t drop the act either. So, I close my eyes and chant, deep inside, under the mask: breathe, don’t look down and smile.

“I’ll manage,” is what I say. “I can’t take it anymore,” is what I mean. I’m fading, painfully, into my own darkness, consumed by my own emotions. I can feel myself slipping away. I can feel my control cracking. Will I go out in a blast? Or will all those wounds I’ve so thoroughly collected and hid make me just collapse into the void that once was me? It’s hard to say, when all the lines are blurred. These days, I can hardly tell what exactly this “me” is. These days, all I am is a broken mask, a worn act and a too tense smile.

“I don’t mind,” is what I say. “Fuck you,” is what I mean. I want to tear your eyes out. I want to dig my fingers past your ribs and squeeze the air out of your lungs. I want to cut you open and spread your guts all over the ground. I want to write the screams that echo in my head in your blood. I want to crack your head open, pick at your brain, find out how you can be so oblivious to the signs. I want to get your still beating heart out and see if it can beat in the place of mine too. I want to find my peace of mind by emptying your skull. But all these are acts of self-indulgence I cannot afford. Monsters can’t walk in the light of the day wearing their true faces. The darkness of a soul can’t be worn on a sleeve when there is someone watching. The anger must find its nourishment on the inside, since it can’t be unleashed on the outside. Bloodlust must be content with my own blood, since it can’t have any other. And my demons have to wait for when I’ll be alone with them once again, away from the cruel stage of the world. So, in the meanwhile, I shrug, pretend, smoothly change the subject and smile.

Maybe one day I’ll decide that I don’t care anymore and drop this consuming act. Maybe one day I’ll throw the script away and finally scream my lungs out. Maybe I’ll decide that it isn’t worth it and let the anger and the dark take whatever they want. Not from me, not from the little that will be left of my being, but from my audience. Years and years of repression and sacrifices and pretence, I’ll watch them being wiped away, in a glorious explosion of black light, and take me down with them. But, after all, freedom has a price, just as everything else, doesn’t it? And I can’t stop thinking that, for the first and last time I’d mean it. I’d truly feel that bloody smile on my face.

#vent writing #flow of consciousness #mental illness #self esteem issues #depression #self harm #self loathing #social anxiety #suicidal thoughts #violence #borderline personality disorder #scotty writes

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penn-dragon · 3 years

Text

Tangled Adjacent AU

That reminded me I still have more parksborn snippets to post

Context: This is from what I lovingly call my Tangled Adjacent AU which is inspired by, you guessed it, Tangled. The basic premise is that after Harry’s mother died Norman became obsessively overprotective of Harry and keeps him locked away in Oscorp to the point that no one even knows Norman Osborn HAS a son, feeding him inflated stories that keep him scared of the world and ESPECIALLY the menace Spider-Man. Until one day Peter accidently stumbles across him and becomes determined to help draw this misinformed, sheltered kid out of his shell.

Peter pushed open the grate and pulled himself out of the vent, tumbling to the floor and knocking a stack of books over on his way down.

“Yowch,” he groaned, pushing himself to his feet and rubbing his aching head for a moment. “Not one of my more graceful landings, I’ll give me that.”

He dropped his hand to wrap both arms around his sore ribs, lifting his head and coming face to face with… a teenage boy. A teenage boy who looked terrified and furious all at once. Peter’s eyes widened.

He was holding what appeared to be a microscope above his head, ready to strike. A nice one. Probably the first thing he’d grabbed when he heard Peter come in. Peter held one hand up in front of himself, keeping the other pressed firmly against his ribs.

“Woah there.”

“What are you doing here, Spider-Man?” The boy hissed.

“Oh man—” Peter started uselessly, a little taken aback by the hostility. “I—uh— Look I didn’t mean to barge in, but—short version—I just got done beating a baddie, saving the day, you know the drill— Swung a little too close to Oscorp and had a run in with the security drones. I just ducked in the first vent I saw and ended up here.” He paused, glancing around the room. “... Wherever here is.” The little room looked like it was part of an apartment, but wasn’t recognizable as one of the few residential floors Oscorp had for it’s CEO and the small number of employees who could afford the rent.

“Please,” the boy snapped, lifting the microscope slightly higher above his head, “you expect me to believe you ended up here by accident?”

Peter wondered if his arms were getting tired holding that.

“I mean, I guess you don’t have to believe it, but why else would I be here?”

“To inject me with venom and suck out my insides?”

He said it so matter-of-factly, even with the sarcastic lilt to his voice the suggestion was so ridiculous coming from a boy glaring daggers at him and holding a microscope above his head that it surprised a laugh out of Peter. The boy startled at the sudden sound, jerking back slightly.

“Seriously? These rumors have gotten so out of hand. I know the press doesn't like me but—jeez— Not only am I physically incapable of doing that, I really wouldn’t want to.”

That seemed to take some of the steam out of the boy’s engine, his grip on the microscope loosened slightly. Not off guard, but thrown for a loop definitely.

“Who even told you I do that?”

“My… dad,” he answered haltingly, like he hadn’t actually meant to say it.

“Who’s your dad,” Peter muttered, more to himself than anything, “J. Jonah Jameson?”

“No…” the boy trailed off, clearly not intending to continue.

“Well,” Peter filled in the silence with a short shrug of his shoulders, “I promise I’m not here to suck out your guts. So you can put that down—” Immediately the tension was back in the boy’s muscles, holding the microscope ready to swing, “—or not.” Peter let out a short sigh lifting his left hand again to wave it placatingly. “Look you can keep that if it makes you feel safer, but I’m really banged up here, so I’m gonna sit. Please don’t hit me in the head with that thing, it would hurt.” Peter slowly lowered himself to the ground, scooting back so he could lean against the wall and shuffle himself into a semi-comfortable position. “Plus that looks like a really nice microscope, it’d be a waste to crack it over my skull.”

Being given the high-ground—or maybe concern about the microscope—seemed to deflate the boy once more. He lowered his arms slightly, then let the microscope sink all the way to his chest where he wrapped his arms around it in a more comfortable hold.

“... It’s my favorite microscope,” he said after a pause.

“No kidding? I can see why, wish I had one that nice. Mine’s a piece of second-hand junk from Ebay.”

“You like science?”

“You bet! Made all my own gear.” Peter held out his hand, folding his wrist down to show off his webshooter. The boy flinched back at the sudden movement, pulling the microscope further against his chest and retreating backwards to the mouth of the door. “Sorry! Sorry,” Peter called, tucking his hands under his armpits. “No webs, got it.”

The boy continued to hover cautiously by the door. Now that his initial fire had calmed down he looked small. Mostly in a metaphorical sense, he was probably a couple inches taller than Peter, but he was skinny, and his jet black hair stood out in sharp contrast with how pale his skin was. His eyes, however, were a soft, muted blue that watched him wearily.

“Do you… live here?” He asked, eyes darting around the room. It was definitely a bedroom… or at least, something close to a bedroom. There was a double bed pushed up in the corner, nearly eclipsed with stacks of books, notebooks and loose papers. Opposite was a desk covered in slides and petri disks where the boy must have been working when he stumbled in. The rest of the room was disturbingly bare. No pictures, posters, or any kind of memorabilia that would imply someone lived here. Nothing he would expect from another teenager’s bedroom. The boy didn’t answer, just continued staring at him from the doorway. As the silence stretched on uncomfortably long, Peter realized he didn’t intend to answer.

“What’s your name?” He tried again, tilting his head to study the other boy.

He didn’t get a response right away. After another stretch of silence under that unwavering blue gaze, Peter assumed he wasn’t going to get one. But as he dipped his head to check on his battered ribs, a quiet voice rose in the silence.

“Harry.”

Peter looked back up.

“Harry?” The boy—Harry—didn’t speak again, but he did avert his eyes for the first time since Peter entered the room, almost like he was embarrassed hearing his own name said aloud. “Harry,” Peter said again, testing the name on his tongue. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Harry. I’m Spider-Man, you can call me Spidey.”

Harry looked back at him, clearly struggling to think of a response. Peter decided to spare him from thinking of one.

“Look, it’s clear my being here is… not so welcome. So I’ll just bounce.” He slowly stood up, minding both his injuries, and Harry still cowering at the door while trying to look like he wasn’t cowering. “I just needed to catch my second wind, so I can get out of range of the security bots before they turn me into Swiss cheese.”

“You fought the security bots to get in here.” Harry’s voice chimed back in. Peter turned his head to look at him. He was a step further into the room and there was a different look on his face. A spark in his eye that wasn’t there before.

“Yep,” Peter answered, popping the ‘p’ playfully. He turned back fully, curious to see where this was going.

“How were they?”

Peter tilted his head.

“Well they didn’t kill me if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Well, obviously,” Harry snarked, “But i mean aside from that. How was their reactivity? Could you spot their patterns easily or no?” Harry moved forward and set the microscope back on the desk, lifting his hand to his chin as his eyes sunk to the floor and Peter was actually startled by how suddenly his demeanor changed. “I’ve been fiddling with them recently, trying to improve their efficiency—”

“Wait,” Peter cut in, “you built the Oscorp security bots?”

Harry’s head snapped up, and he flinched back, ducking his head like he just realized he said something he shouldn’t have. He crossed his arms over his chest and suddenly his guard was back, and all the personality spilling out of him a moment ago was slammed back behind a wall.

“No, I— I didn't build them… Robotics aren’t really my thing… I’ve just been tinkering with them recently, as a side project.”

Peter watched him for a moment, wondering what he’d said to cause such a sudden shift, and how he could get that excitement back.

“Well, while they were trying to kill me it seemed like they worked pretty well,” he said, and Harry’s eyes lifted back to him, intrigue shining through in the blue of his eyes. “Little tip though, you should add a section in the coding that keeps them from flanking with each other. It seems like a good idea to surround an intruder but it’s way too easy to just duck out of the line of fire and watch them shoot each other.”

Peter knew very well that he was making it that much more difficult for himself the next time he had a run in with Oscorp’s security, but in his mind it was worth it when he once again saw the caution drain out of Harry’s eyes as he ran through Peter’s advice in his head.

“Hm,” he said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

#msm 2017 #marvel spider-man 2017 #parksborn #penn writes things #i mean theres not actually any romance in this snippet but rest assured they fall in love

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violetnotez · 4 years

Text

I just want Bakugo cuddles 🥺 Thank you to @gallickingun @katsukisprincess and @yuueimagines helping me start this baby+give me ideas! <3

Bakugo x reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1985

Warnings: cussing (it’s Bakugo there’s ALWAYS cussing)

Summary: It’s one of the hottest days of the year, yet Bakugo still wants to hold you close to him. You try to fight off his cuddle attack, but it’s no use-when Bakugo wants something, he will get it. No matter what.

“Y/n come here.”

You sighed exasperatedly into the warm pillow, your damp forehead facing away from the stubborn boy.

“For the last time Katsuki, I’m not going to cuddle you.”

It was one of the hottest days of the year, the summer heat making the room into a sweltering and humid heat magnet. You had countless fans going on and the AC at full blast, the roar of the machines working filling your shared bedroom with Bakugo.

Even with those devices, though, you seemed unable to push the heat out of the room. The sheets were long forgotten on the floor, you both finding them to make the warmth worse by trapping your body heat. Both of you were covered in sweat, your hairs sticking to your forehead and your skins uncomfortably hot.

It also didn’t help Bakugo was essentially a human radiator. His quirk seemed to keep him permanently hot, his skin always warm to the touch. You didn’t mind him being so naturally warm-it was comforting to have him to snuggle since the heat of his body felt like a warm blanket, enveloping you in a calming comfort. Yet, with it being such a sweltering, uncomfortable temperature, it really wasn’t the best time to cuddle someone, especially your warm-blooded boyfriend.

“Why the fuck not? Bakugo growled out, annoyance bubbling into his stomach.

All Bakugo wanted was to hold you against him, to feel how your body molded into his so effortlessly and the softness of your skin.

But because of this damn heat and his obnoxiously hot body temperature, you had scooted so far away from him you were practically falling off the bed.

And that bothered the hell out of him-you were usually so ready to pounce on him and give him all the love his heart wanted. But now you didn’t even want to look at him it was so hot.

“You know why ‘Suki, it’s just too hot for that-“

“Bullshit! Look how many fans we have on-you seriously can’t be that hot,” He was sulking on his side of the bed, his lips poured out slightly as he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

You propped your slick body up on your elbows, trying to catch as much of a breeze from the circulating fans. You gave a tired sigh, your warm body feeling achy from the long hours of heat exposure.

“I too am too that hot,” you huffed out, “your sweating along with me, so don’t act like I’m just overreacting,”

“Dumbass, I’m always sweating, it’s my quirk!” he retaliated, his eyes bright with irritation-he just wanted to hold you, god damn it! He didn’t want to admit that he was hot as well, he was desperate for your touch.

And if you were putting up a fight to not be next to him, oh, he was going to make sure he won.

“If your hot, just take off some of your clothes, it’s keeping in your body heat anyway-“

You gave a small laugh, rolling your eyes at the blonde. You two were already stripped to the bare minimum in order to get rid of some of your warmth. Bakugo was only clad in a pair of boxers while you were wearing a lounge bra and shorts.

“Bakugo, if I’m not snuggling you because it’s warm,” you retorted with a giggle, “I’m definitely not doing that with you,” you turned to see his already pink cheeks get noticeably darker, a laugh spilling out of you from his embarrassment.

“I didn’t-mean it like that!” he sputtered out, “get your head out of the fucking gutter!”

You gave another chuckle, your head lulled back on your shoulders lazily.

He was so enamored by your sounds-the way you talked, laughed, sighed-it all sounded so pretty and infectious to him. If he could, he’d listen to you speak all day and all night and never get bored once.

You gave another look at the boy, his hair sticking to his forehead as he cuddles into his pillow, looking up at you with waiting eyes.

You reached over softly, your warm hand grazing his hot forehead as you pushed the damp hair away from his face. He sighed into your touch, a little bit of hope glimmering inside him that you would give in to his desires.

But just as quickly as you had touched him, you pulled away, leaving him feeling angry and desperate.

You watched the hotheaded boy’s face turn from peaceful to utterly annoyed, his eyes boaring into yours maliciously for playing with his heart like that. His grumpy frown slowly turned into a sick grin, as if a dark idea crawled into his brain.

If you wanted to play dirty, he would play dirtier than you.

Bakugo gripped your wrist with his warm, clammy hands, your eyes shooting open. He expertly took hold of your body, his overwhelming heat sweeping into your skin as you yelled in protest.

He had flipped you onto his stomach, his strong arms encasing you into his chest. The slight smell of salted caramel that came off of Katsuki filled your noise, making your mouth water slightly.

His muscles and skin were so enticing and comforting that you could fall asleep instantly in his touch. You loved hearing his powerful heart beat through his chest, and monitoring how it changed pace whenever you touched him or said a certain thing.

As much as those things made you feel happy and secure, the blonde was like furnace, containing all the heat in his body and radiating it into yours. It was unbearable in this warm room, and you began to squirm in his touch in an attempt to escape it.

“Katsuki, please, no!” You cried out with a smile, unable to be serious around the blonde. “You’re so-hot!”

“I know that, Princess, you don’t have to say it,” he chuckled arrogantly, trying to keep ahold of your wriggling body.

“God your full of yourself!” You laughed as you continued to struggle, your hands now pushing against his firm chest in an attempt to be free of his grasp.

“ damn, y/n-stop moving!”

“Then you let me go!”

“Hell no!”

You continued to struggle against the hothead, your fingers grasping at his skin, giggles spilling out as the heat of your body against his grew.

It was becoming close to unbearable for you and Bakugo, sweat making your body slippery as Bakugo tried to keep ahold of you.

He was getting more and more agitated the more you fought against him-you seriously didn’t want to cuddle with him that badly? Just over some god damn heat?

He was through with your fighting, his mind getting another idea.

He quickly flipped you over yet again, his body now on top of yours as you laid face up on the bead, your positions now being reversed.

Bakugo had his body propped on top, the thick muscles of his arms highlighted dramatically in the hazy lights. His eyes were a bright vermillion, a glow to them from having such a challenge tasked in front of him. A small smirk played on his parted lips, his skin radiating heat in top of you.

For you, it was getting hotter every second, and in this new position, it was even worse- Bakugo’s dense body blocked out any cool air from the fans, his full body weight was now encasing you, and the fact that he was pinning you down to the heated bed made it feel like you were in a sauna.

Bakugo looked down at you, pleading with his eyes, searching your face for any sign of agreement.

He was hoping against hope you were going to break-you had to know you were weaker than him-youd never be able to fight him off.

Yet you were still struggling, that bright smile of yours still on your face as you pleaded and retorted back at him, your soft hands still on his skin, pushing him away. It tore at his pride a little that you were being so defiant, but he had to admit, that was one of the reasons why he loved you so much: you put up with his bullshit and held your ground, even if it agitated him.

He stopped trying to hold you, his body propped on top of your squirming one.

“You seriosuly don’t want to hold me?” He asked, his voice full of spite.

“I’m sorry-I really just don’t-“ you began, but stopped once you felt Bakugo’s strong body crawl off yours and off the bed. You could already tell he was pissed off, a part of you hoping he wouldnt have a mini temper tantrum about all this.

You watched his built body walk to the foot of the bed, appreciating how the muscles rippled and moved so effortlessly with his movements.

He honestly was a sight to be seen, even if he was acting childish.

You continued to watch him, and to your surprise, he walked over to the fans, all lined up like little soldiers in front of the bed. You felt the cool air blast through the vents of the contraptions, a sigh escaping your lips.

Bakugo’s hand laid on top of one of the room fans gently, his head low as he stared at it. He turned his head, giving you a shit eating grin.

“You should’ve just been a good girl and listened to me y/n,” he warned out, his voice deep and husky, “now you gotta deal with the consequences.

“Katsuki, what are you doing?” You asked in horror, helpless to watch as Bakugo turned off each and every fan in the room. You could already feel the heat multiplying as each one shut down, the hypnotic whirs now dissappearing.

Desperation filled your gut as Bakugo went over to now turn off the AC, the most evil action he could do at this point. Your body swung off the bed, your feet slapping the luke-warm wood as you gripped Bakugo’s sinewy arm, trying with all your might to stop him from turning it off.

“Please Bakugo, no!” You pleaded, “Thats pure evil!”

“Will you- cuddle me then?!” He sputtered out, hating how needy he sounded.

“I-I can’t, it’s just too hot-“ you begged, “but maybe we can tomorrow when it’s not so hot.”

Bakugo gave a small growl, his teeth barred like an animals as the frustration bursted out of his chest.

“If you don’t fucking hold me right now I will break all these goddamn fans!”

“You wouldn’t dare,” You gasped, fear and irritation filling your stomach-the most annoying thing to you was that you knew that wasn’t an empty threat. Bakugo would break these in a heartbeat if you didn’t do what he said.

“Fucking watch me,” he confirmed your fears, his bright red eyes staring down at you, waiting for your answer.

You sighed, the grip you had on his arm loosening slightly.

You had two options: either have a pissed off Bakugo and it be hot or cuddle him and still be hot-at least his temperament would cool down slightly if you picked the 2nd.

You slowly wrapped your body around his, your mingled heat melting into each other as you cuddled into his neck, your warmth breath sending electricity down his spine.

“Fine,” you agreed reluctantly, your fingers deep into the softness of his hair. “But on one condition-”

“Hm?” he hummed, relishing the feeling of your skin finally on his.

“-turn back on the fans.”

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consumedkings-archive · 3 years

Text

i. devour ✤ helmi x jestiny

full cult au + “i’ve dreamt about this” requested by @adelaidedrubman

word count: 1.9k

warnings: canon-typical drug use, cults run amok, dubious consent because of the drug use (but it is safe i promise), lots of allusions to cannibalistic imagery, excessive use of the word "want" and "hungry" (sorry), hints of helmi/jestiny/kajsa if you squint, canon-typical descriptions of gore and violence : ^ ) obviously this is elaborating on some themes of emotional manipulation (as cults do) so please do not read if you are uncomfy!

Helmi has always been a completionist.

It’s not that she’s a particularly competitive woman; she’s just efficient. There’s no task set out ahead of her that she cannot get done, large or small. A problem is presented, and Helmi solves it. Sometimes it’s an easy solution. Sometimes it requires brute force. This part, she always plays by ear.

Jestiny is no different.

She would almost be frustrated by the existence of the other woman were she not so interested. There’s weeks of back and forth. She can’t afford to lose track of what the true task is: wrench, slice, gut. Empty them out onto the snow. Paint it red, red, red. But if there’s something that drives her away from her duty—heart, heart, that’s what you are, pumping blood out of our last dying breath, spill it onto the earth for our Mother to feel—it’s the incessant, obnoxious chattering in the radios from the deputy. She cannot stand to have her work undone, and yet: there is an undoing, in human shape, burning in the back of her mind until her molars are grinding together.

It is frustrating to have her attention so raptly caught, so fiercely entrenched in a net of thorns she cannot possibly pull it away without causing irreparable damage, and especially for Kajsa to notice.

She can still remember the first time she had come back to the others, radiating irritation because as much as she likes the cat and mouse, she wants contact. Fingers and teeth to meet in the flesh. And she hadn’t been sure how to reconcile this feeling with the knowledge that one day, the Father of Many Faces may ask her—through Kajsa—to rip her ribs open and clean her out.

And as though she can read her mind (perhaps she can, you know, she always seems to See Us), Kajsa had looked at her and said, “Do you want her?”

Helmi knows her expression had crumpled. Twisted up, mouth downturned viciously, quickly directing her eyes elsewhere so that Kajsa cannot see the ache in her.

“It’s not my job to want,” had been her reply.

“Do not be foolish.” Kajsa had cut a piece of her apple, pushing the piece departed from the apple’s body into Helmi’s hand. “Get her.”

Her heart had felt sticky. Hot, jumping up in her throat. It had been a long time since she had wanted. “Kajsa—”

“Now it is your job, no?” And Kajsa waved her knife, wet with apple, dismissively. “And maybe I want her. Get her.” And then, planting the flat edge of the blade against Helmi’s lower lip to quiet the oncoming protest: “For me.”

Of course, she could not have refused, even if she wanted to. Even if the cool metal of the blade had not reminded her of who it was she answered to, even if the sticky-wet of Kajsa’s voice did not tell her there was no arguing to be had.

So she does: get her.

It takes a long time. Longer than, normally, Helmi would like. It’s impossible not to rush where the redhead is considered, anyway; Jestiny pushes all of her buttons, goads her, coaxes and shoves and bites and kicks her way through every interaction (sometimes, literally). But each time Helmi leaves their coincidental run-in with a bite-bloodied lip, she’s hungrier.

Wanting.

She spends their time apart wondering how sweet she will be when she finally acquiesces. There’s no lack of Jestiny spitting out fuck yous and get the hell outs, but one day—Helmi knows this—it won’t be so much vitriol. She doesn’t want it gone, just...redirected. Used more intentionally. And she thinks about what it will be like to grab a fistful of that red hair and tilt her head back and have all that skin just for herself.

Well, herself and Kajsa.

It’s so frequent that the moments in time permeate her sleeping hours, too. She dreams about it; dreams of the submission, acquiescence, of the redhead tilting her chin to give her more skin to kiss, digging her nails in and saying more, Hel, give me more, I’ll take more, of kissing her. Gods, does Helmi just want to kiss her.

But when it takes a little too long, when the days are dragging by with no deputy swaddled up in their family, Kajsa says, “Enough playing, Helmi.”

She’s halfway to the truck when the woman speaks, stopping with her hand on the handle and the keys dangling from her fingers. Helmi looks back at her black-haired paramour.

“I’m not,” she says.

“I know you,” Kajsa replies. “You play with your food.”

Yes, Helmi thinks, willing her expression still. I do.

“Make a meal of her if you are going to,” Kajsa continues, “but I am tired of waiting, Helmi.” Her head tilts, slate-gray eyes dark sharp. “Tonight.”

And that is how Helmi finds herself in a room filled with the overwhelming scent of lavender and smoke, rich, wet earth pummeling her senses. She had wanted to bring Jessie around without it, but what Kajsa wants, Kajsa gets—so here she is, standing in the doorway of a room filling with smoke, vents stuffed with wet herbs and radiating the fetid smell throughout the house.

It’s clear that Jestiny has had very little exposure to it, despite their frequent run-ins. Her eyes are a little glassy, hands curling into fists at her sides. She looks pissed.

“What—” Just that one word is already slurring. “What the fuck did you—are you doing to me?”

Helmi takes in a slow, measured breath. It’s potent, even to her, even when she’s been dosed on it in exponentially larger amounts to build up her tolerance. “Opening you,” she replies after a moment.

“Fuck you,” the redhead spits. “No-fuckin’-vacancy. We’re closed. Closed the-fuck-up, compadre—”

She’s rambling already, too. Helmi rolls her eyes. “To the influence,” she clarifies, as though she doesn't also want to open up Jestiny for her, taking a few steps forward. The sound of her feet hitting the floor bounce in light waves around her, even as her heart rate stays slow against the drug. She can taste it coating the inside of her mouth, it’s so wet; and when she gets within touching range, Jestiny blinks, flinching and recoiling, like she hadn’t seen her coming even though their eyes had not once left each other.

She rasps, “Get out.”

Helmi’s eyes narrow. Normally, she would have obliged. For the game. “No.”

“Get—” Jestiny sucks in a sharp breath. “Get the f-fuck—”

“Aren’t you tired of playing this game?” Helmi demands, channeling what of Kajsa still roots itself in her mind. “You don’t belong with them. The Resistance, the Seeds—they don’t want you. You can see it now, can’t you? Now that all of that garbage is pushed out of the way, all of those pesky walls pushed down, you can see that they’re using you. You’re nothing more than a checker piece in their fucking backgammon game.”

“Shut up—”

“They don’t want you,” she repeats, and the room is so hot, so fucking hot it’s sweltering and she wishes she’d shucked at least some of her layers before coming, if only for temperature control. Oh, well. Too late. “Not in the way you deserve.”

She reaches up, hand landing on the juncture between Jessie’s shoulder and neck. She had foregone the gloves, at least, but that had been for selfish reasons; because she wanted to feel. All that skin.

The skin-to-skin contact had a strange, wild little sound crawling up Jestiny’s throat. She sounds upset. Distressed.

“They don’t want you,” Helmi says again, pitching her voice lower, so close so close so mine, “the way that I do.”

She imagines it must be scary. The first time being opened always is. But vulnerability is scary; openness, seeing, is scary. The drugs allow for true sight, but it’s not always what the person wants to see, just what they need to see. And Helmi can tell that Jestiny is panicking, does not like seeing the truth in Helmi’s words, because she makes a sound like choking.

Helmi kisses her.

The woman stills, freezing ramrod-straight. She doesn’t return the gesture, not right away; instead, she stands there and just lets Helmi kiss her. It’s not until she starts to pull back that the redhead finally reacts, reaching up and grabbing the wrist closest to her neck, digging her nails in again. Helmi only pulls back far enough to leave breath between their mouths, but Jestiny is gripping her like she’s going away forever. For good.

“Again,” Jessie manages out, hoarsely. “S-Say—Say it—”

“I want you,” Helmi says when she realizes what it is Jestiny is asking for. And she is asking, which she has never done before; it’s always only demanding, ordering, commanding. So Helmi glides her hand up the woman’s neck and threads her fingers through her hair and says, against her mouth, “I want you, little snake.”

That strange little sound comes out of the redhead again—but it’s clearer this time; a moan, agonized and distressed, like she wants and wishes she didn't.

The air is thick between them, wet and humid and riddled with the overwhelming darkness of the earth. She watches the woman’s bubblegum-pink tongue dart out, wetting her lips, and Helmi feels that emotion gnawing at her insides again:

Hunger.

She has spent years stifling her appetite; she’s tired of it. She wants to hunger, to be caught wanting, and she doesn’t mind—Kajsa had said she could. Had ordered her. It was her job to want, and to be hungry, and she feels it now more than ever. Absently, Helmi twists a lock of copper hair around her finger, watching it coil tight and then slip loose again, falling from her fingers; embers embers embers, in the dying light, and she can’t look away. She’s always had a thing for fire, anyway.

“You won’t believe me,” she murmurs, lifting her eyes to meet amber ones, the corners of her mouth ticking upwards, “but I’ll say it anyway.”

Hel dips her head down, guides her mouth across warm skin; hungry, wanting, but she doesn’t care to be seen like this—prefers it, actually—so she says, “I’ve dreamt about this.”

“Shut up,” Jestiny manages out, her voice breaking a little. “Sound so f-fucking stupid.”

Hel tightens her grip on the copper hair again and tugs. “Brat.”

A most unbecoming squeak comes out of Jessie, her brows furrowing in irritation and face flushing a gorgeous high-colour. “Feel like shit,” Jestiny slurs. “You made me feel like shit.”

“I know,” Helmi whispers back, the closest she will get to apologizing for making her see the truth. “But you belong with me.”

She knows the way the Resistance and the Seeds talk about Jestiny. It’s always belong to, not belong with, but she’ll show Jestiny that it’s different now. They’re different.

She’s different.

And there’s nothing quite like kissing her, Helmi decides, as sweet as she imagined that it would be in her dreams, because now Jestiny is kissing her back—parting her lips and fisting the dark fabric of Helmi’s sweater, rambling something against her mouth that Helmi can’t quite make out over the sound of her blood rushing through her head.

Later, she will dream about it. Later, she will roll over in her makeshift bed, and pull the then-sleeping redhead against her, to assure herself that she’s there, and every bone in her body will sing at last, at last, we’ve got you at last. Later, she will bury her face into the crook of the redhead's neck and indulge herself in warm skin, hers for the taking. Later, she will trace every single dip and curve with her fingers. It will be as sweet as kissing.

But nothing will be quite so sweet as the way it feels when Kasja turns to see them coming from the truck, hand-in-hand, a smile curving her mouth as she watches them and says:

“Welcome home.”

#my writing #otp: jelmi #oc: deputy jestiny ellen #ch: helmi #honorable mention for #ch: kajsa rosing #sorry the are like: This #this was SO self-indulgent I HOPE IT'S OKAY LIZ #KJDHFKJDHFHDF #writing prompts

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mlovesstories · 3 years

Text

His Thoughts on Therapy Part 1

Summary: Dean is forced to go to therapy. He doesn’t want to, but he ends up meeting a friend.

Warnings: Dean being emotional because of the fire, therapy, car issues, cussing

Words: 2600

Dean x reader!platonic

Sam x reader!platonic

Dean x therapist!Dr. Sky

Masterlist of Masterlists

“Go.” Sam growled. “Or I’ll take you there myself!”

Dean has made a bet of sorts with Sam. If his drinking became more frequent, Sam was going to be in charge of buying the beer and Dean would have to go to a therapist. They had experienced a lot, and they both knew that. Sam could see Dean fading, so he laid down the law, and Dean was not cooperating.

“I’ll pour all the beer down the drain right now if you don’t go to your appointment. It’s in twenty minutes.” He was toward the fridge.

“OKAY!” Dean stood up quickly and grabbed his keys. “Don’t touch what beer I have left.” He groaned.

“Bye!” Sam sighed, happy he won the argument.

Dean went to his therapist for a few sessions. He was very saddened when he saw that she was older than him and not his type. Dean did not want to be there, and it showed. He liked her, but he was not the ‘spill his guts’ type of person. His therapist made an off comment about her mom passing, and Dean’s heart dropped.

“My mom is gone too,” he said sadly.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Dean.” She frowned.

“Yeah, it was a while ago. It’s fine.”

“You’re really good at not really dealing with anything, are you?” The doctor said seriously.

“What gave it away? My sarcasm, deflection, or self-preservation?” He grinned. “Look, doc,” Dean sighed. “My mom died when I was four. My dad told me to get Sam, so I got my brother out before the fire engulfed the stairs. Dad was fine, but my mom didn’t come out of the house with him.”

“Wow,” the doctor said, almost judgingly.

“What? My story not good enough for you? I got more if you-” Dean raised his voice in defense.

“No, Dean,” she put a hand up asking him to calm down. “What I meant was that just from that one story you’ve told me, it tells me a lot about you.”

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“Like what?”

“You grew up a lot that night. I’d put my money on you as the protector and preserver of the family. You probably blame your dad for your mom’s death in a way.”

“Woah, my dad-”

“I’m sorry. That was very forward of me.” She frowned again.

“I was in charge of Sammy, and he was supposed to get Mom. He didn’t. End of story.”

“Mhmm.” Doctor Sky eyed him.

“Okay, I’m done,” Dean stood and put the pillows back where they were placed at the beginning of the session. “I’m done with you psychoanalyzing me.” He stormed out. She didn’t chase after him. The oldest Winchester walked down the steps to the parking lot. Sitting in the Impala, Dean froze, not understanding his emotions. All of a sudden, he realized he had hiccups.

Why am I crying? I don’t cry!

But there was nothing he could do to stop it. Dean covered his face with his hands and sobbed.

YN was late for her appointment. She quickly walked from her car and ran up the stairs to the door she needed to enter. An hour later, she noticed a car in the same spot that it was in when she had arrived. Dean sat blankly in Baby, not seeing YN approaching. She saw tear stains on his face and his eyes puffy.

“Here,” she said, her hand extended with tissues, offering them to him. Dean jumped. “Sorry. Thought you could use them is all. Have a good day.” YN walked toward her car when he heard him call for her. “Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Dean was surprised by the interaction. No questions about why he was acting the way he was. He appreciated it since he was, once again, not a ‘spill-the beans’ type of a person.

The next time he saw his therapist, he apologized for his actions. Dean himself was surprised he even went back, but he knew he needed to or Sam would not buy him any drinks.

“Let’s talk about something else today. Other than your mom, how was it growing up? Are you and your little brother still close?”

“Sammy and I live together. He’s a lawyer, I’m a mechanic. I can’t afford a house, so he lets me rent a room. He’s taller, but I’m cooler,” Dean laughed, and so did the doctor. “Growing up, my dad was gone a lot. He had to run the shop pretty much by himself. I had to take care of Sammy.”

“You’re still very connected with him, that’s very nice to hear. A lot of clients don’t have healthy family relationships if I’m being honest.”

“We’re all we got, I guess.”

“Do you get along with your father? Does he still run the shop?”

Dean winced.

“Am I missing something?” She asked, sincere.

“He passed away a few years ago. A car was on the lift, one of the arms broke. He pushed me out of the way. He didn’t make it.”

“Wow, Dean. That’s a lot.”

“Yeah. My brother has dealt with it better than I have. He exercises regularly, I... “ he stopped himself. “I don’t make healthy choices.” Dean laughed. “I drink sometimes. Sammy said if I continued, I needed to see a therapist. So, here I am.” Dean looked up from his fingers nervously running over a couch pillow placed on his lap.

“Good for you.”

“Huh?” He was confused.

“For seeking help. You’ve been through a lot, Dean. I have something I want you to try. Can you draw?”

“I used to draw my own comics as a kid.”

“Perfect. Here,” his therapist reached in her drawer and pulled out a sketch pad. “Use this. In two weeks, I want you have completed a scenario from your own life where you were hurt. But remember that you’re the comic book hero in this.”

Dean’s face dropped.

“If you want me to read it, I will. If not, that’s okay too.”

Dean relaxed.

“Okay,” he followed her lead as she stood and led him to the door.

“Great. You did wonderful today, and I’m so happy to have you as a client, Dean. Have a wonderful day.”

Dean passed someone on the steps as he walked down to his car. He heard sniffles. Dean turned and found the girl he had seen previously.

“Hey, tissues.” he smirked at his nickname for her. She startled and looked at him. “You okay, kid?” He saw bruises on her arm. When she realized they were noticeable, she adjusted her sleeve.

“Yeah, just got robbed. I’m okay,” she shrugged, trying to keep the tears away.

“Shit, kid. Let me see,” Dean walked toward her, but she recoiled. Forgetting how large he was compared to her, he didn’t realize how he came across. He put his hands up. “Just trying to repay the favor from the other day. Promise I’m not here to hurt you.” Dean slowly sat down on the steps next to her. He was surprised at her openness and trust level. YN pulled her sleeves up to her elbows. She had a few scrapes, but she looked to be okay. “Looks like you need some tissues this time,” Dean grinned. She smiled. “I’m Dean.”

“YN.”

“Are you here with your parents or someone who can help you?”

“I don’t have anybody in this town. Going to college here for the first semester.”

“Eighteen?”

“Twenty. Transferred from a junior college.” She looked at her phone. “Shit. I”m late for my session. Thanks, Dean. See you around.”

“Bye, Tissues.” Dean grinned.

“Whatever, asshole,” she retorted, returning his expression.

Dean kept thinking about his interactions with YN. He felt bad for her that she was so young and on her own. Obviously smart and cared for her mental health, but he somehow felt protective of her.

“Kid?” Dean saw her in the grocery store. She turned.

“Hi Dean. How are you?”

“I’m good. Uh. This is my brother, Sam.”

“Hi,” Sam extended his hand and shook hers.

“Damn, they make you guys big.” YN giggled. “You from Texas or something?”

“Nah, right here,” Dean laughed. “Hey, you doing better today?” He leaned in closer so that others wouldn’t hear.

“Much, thanks.”

“Here, take my number, and you can call us if you need anything.” He ripped off part of his grocery list and wrote his cell phone number on it.

“Are you sure?” YN gasped at his sweetness.

“Sure,” he shrugged.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I need to go, but thanks, boys. I appreciate it, really.”

“Not a problem,” Sam said. “I’m hungry, let’s go, dude.”

“So what was that about? You don’t just hand your number out to people these days.” Sam looked up at his brother that evening at dinner.

“Nothing. She’s a kid and she needs help sometimes just like we all do. She told me outside the therapy office that she doesn’t have anyone here because she’s going to KU, not from here. YN is down on her luck, that’s all.”

“You’re not asking her-”

“Eww! No. Gross.”

“Okay, okay,” Sam leaned back. “Just trying to understand.

“She was black and blue the other day, Sammy. You would have done the same thing.”

“Whatever, dude.”

A few days later, Dean heard his phone go off in the middle of the night.

“What?” He groaned, sleepy.

“Dean, it’s YN… from therapy.”

His eyes widened and his senses were alert.

“What’s wrong?” Dean immediately sat up in bed, concerned.

“I got stuck in the road. I heard you were a mechanic? Do you happen to have a tow truck? My starter is shot because of the storm and mud or whatever. I’ll pay you for it, but can you help me?”

Dean heard the waver in her voice.

“Where are you?”

She told him the cross streets, and he told her he would be there in fifteen minutes.

“You’re on the side of the road, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Stay in your car, you don’t need to be stranded AND wet from the storm. You’ll be okay. I’ll be right there.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

When she saw a large truck getting closer, she flashed her head lights and tail lights at him. Dean pulled in front of her car. Getting out, he motioned for her to get into his vehicle.

“The heat is on, stay warm! There are blankets in the back. I’m going to put your front tires on the back of my truck and then we can go. Just give me a few!” Dean shouted over the rain pouring.

“Okay!” YN ran to get into the warm vehicle. She looked over her shoulder and saw flannel blankets on the floorboard.

Ten minutes later, Dean came inside. Soaked from the storm, he tried to warm up by putting his sleeves next to the vents.

“Here,” YN grabbed an extra blanket. She motioned for him to lean his head toward her. YN ran the blanket through his hair to get the excess water off. “Take your shirt off, it’s sopping wet.”

“I’m okay.” He smiled, thanking her for thinking of him.

“You’ll catch a cold, it’s fine.” She waited until he complied. “Wrap this around you,” YN offered him the blanket.

“Thanks,” he sighed. “Let’s get you home.”

After agreeing that he would take her car to the shop in the morning, he told her good night.

“Tissues!” He yelled through the noise of the storm. She turned. “I’ll give you an update tomorrow. Don’t worry about it, okay? Go dry off!”

“Okay!” YN hurried into her apartment before stripping off her clothes and blow drying her hair. Retrieving her pajamas from the dryer, she settled in for the night.

Thank God for that Winchester guy.

“Hi Dean,” YN answered the phone the next evening.

“Hey Tissues! Your car is at the shop. We’ve got a starter for you. You’ll have it back tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. How much do I owe you?”

“It’s usually one hundred, but it was an easy job, so don’t worry about it.”

“You came and got me at 2am, brought me home, and then fixed my car. AND YOU DON’T WANT ANYTHING FOR IT?”

“How about you buy me and the guys two pizzas? ‘That fair?”

“Oh my gosh. Dean, yes. Thank you!” YN squealed into the phone.

“I’ll call you when it’s done, okay?”

“Thanks, Dean!”

Dean checked on her every few weeks after that. Dean tried harder in therapy, realizing the value of it as he attended more sessions.

“YN told me what you did for her. How did that make you feel?”

“Good, I guess. She needed some help, and I could help her. She doesn’t think I’m a creep or something, right? I could be her dad, I was just trying to be nice.” Dean sputtered out.

“I think it’s fine, Dean.” The doctor laughed. “What I mean is that you gave of yourself when you didn’t have to.”

“I guess.”

Dean texted YN that night and asked if she needed anything.

YN: Nope, thanks, Winchester.

Dean: No problem, T.

YN: When are you going to stop with the ‘Tissues’ thing?

Dean: You don’t like it?

YN: Dork.

Dean: Whatever.

“I’m not going! I don’t feel good!”

“You’re not sick. So help me, I will dump that whole six pack down the drain if you don’t go to therapy today!” Sam chased after his brother.

“I’m- she makes me think, and I don’t like it!”

Sam chuckled.

“That’s her job, asshole.”

“Shut up. Fine. I’m going. You better not touch my beer.”

“Hi, Dean.” YN passed him after her session with their therapist. “How are you?”

“Not today, kid.” He ran past her and let the door slam as he entered the suite.

“Damn. Whatever, Winchester.”

“What’s going on today, Dean?” His therapist got comfortable in her chair.

“I’m fine,” he shrugged.

“Is that why everything you’ve done while in my office has included sudden movements? And maybe the reason you sound like an elephant stomping around?” She raised a brow.

“Doc, I don’t want to be here, okay?”

“You’re only here because of Sam, yeah, I got that. What’s going on? No therapy talk, just a conversation.”

I don’t know. Okay? I’ve been a mess since I’ve been coming to see you, and I don’t know why. I also don’t like it.”

“Ah. So then why are you still here? Other than your brother making you? There has to be something else.” Doctor Sky at him squarely.

“I’ve never felt like this before. I’m an emotional mess and yet it feels good…? Is that weird?” Dean readjusted his sitting position on the office couch.

“That makes perfect sense. You’re exploring parts of your life that you haven’t in a long time, Dean. It feels good to get it out, doesn’t it?”

“Odd, I think is a better word for it.” Dean huffed. “I hate being here, but I feel better about everything too.”

“That’s not at all a surprise to me, Dean.” She pulled out a pen and wrote a note to herself. :THat shows growth. I think you’ve grown.”

“I guess.”

“Did you write in your comic book?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Dean pulled it out from his large back pocket. He tried to hand it to her. Before reaching for it, she tilted her head.

“I gave you the option of not sharing it with me. Are you sure you want to?”

He extended it further.

“Did you enjoy putting your comic together?” His therapist flipped through a few pages and then looked up at him.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say it was fun, but I would rather do that than write it out.” Dean shrugged.

“Noted. So I see in here you depicted the fire.”

“And the time I had to take Sammy to the emergency room on my bike because he broke his arm,” he grinned at the memory.

“Oh my.” Dr. Sky smiled. “Sounds like a story for another time. Please keep using this, I think it will be beneficial to you. When you need a new one, let me know.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m very proud of you for sticking this out. I think we should talk about some coping skills for you.”

“Come on, doc.” Dean adjusted his jacket on his shoulders, showing his uncomfortableness.

“You’re showing new emotions, you need to know what to do with them, don’t you think?” His therapist put her notebook to the side.

“Do you enjoy physical activity, sports, watching TV?”

“All of the above.”

“When you start to feel out of control, use one of those. It’s good to feel emotions, and it’s healthy, but don’t let your mind stay there.”

“Makes sense.”

“You’re doing great, Dean. Keep up the good work.”

Forever Friends (Everything):

@katymacsupernatural @unicornblood4ever @supernatural-crazed-girl

@fangirl-moment-x @empirialwolf @winchesters-favorite-girl @super100012

@percywinchester27 @waywardsuns @supernatural-jackles

@mcallmestiles @sdavid09 @kingandrear @bellero @skylarraker

@seality @jaycc7983 @luci-in-trenchcoats

@cherryblossomflowers @because-you-never-know-when

@sleepylunarwolf @choosemyname

@internationalmusicteacher @mersuperwholocked-lowlife

@encounterthepast @torn-and-frayed

@giggles1026 @xiumin-girl99

@mangueweaschester

@idksupernatural @silverstripe101a

@thevelvetseries @jennawinchester152a * @samsgirl93 @supernatural3002 *

* @breereadsthings *

@a-magey @vicmc624 @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @beatifuldisaster018

@miraclesoflove @myopiamystical @fallen-wolf22

@waywardnewcomer

@marvelouslysherlockedhunter @miss-nerd95 @akshi8278

#supernatural #SupernaturalAU #mlovesstorieshisthoughtsontherapy #mlovesstories #dean winchester #dean x reader!platonic #Sam Winchester #sam x reader!platonic

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ilguna · 4 years

Text

Metanoia - Chapter Fifteen (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 10.7k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder and torture

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

uhhh long ass chapter jfc

–

You tap the end of the spoon against the table, “Maybe more gasoline?”

Beetee gives you a look, “I’ve engineered these perfectly--”

“I’m literally from District Two, I manufactured weapons. Just add a bit more gas, and see what happens, it can’t hurt, can it?”

Beetee readjusts the glasses on his face, “I suppose not.” he gets to work, and you scoop some of the carrots onto your spoon, trying not to make a face when you force them down your throat. They’ve gotten cold from how long you’ve been stalling, “You’ve made molotov arrows before?”

“Well…” you make a face, and he turns his eyes to you, “I wouldn’t say that. I’ve… experimented that’s for sure.”

Gale laughs, “What does that mean?”

“It means I’ve illegally made weapons and sometimes started bush fires because of it,” you laugh, “And I’ve never been caught, either.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be in here.” Beetee mutters.

You roll your eyes, “As if I would willingly do work now. Just telling you to add more gas was a bore.”

Beetee screws the top back onto the arrow, being careless with it to see if it’ll explode or whatever. Which means that you should definitely put some distance between you and the psychopath here, you’re not too fond of being inside of a molotov. No matter how small that arrow is, there will be a ton of fire.

“Give it a shot.” you motion at Gale, “Seriously.”

“It won’t set the studio on fire?”

“You’re talking to the two engineers, here. Go ahead before I do it myself.”

Gale picks up the crossbow, and then takes the arrow that Beetee is offering him. While he prepares everything, you swivel around to face Gale, while Beetee has to turn the entire wheelchair to see.

“I’ve been trying to make a trident for Finnick.” Beetee begins, the two of you watch Gale prepare, the people on the other end of the room have fire extinguishers ready to put the fire out as soon as the arrow is fired.

“Don’t make it look like an actual trident, keep the design as close as possible to the one he had inside of the arena.” you scoop up another spoonful of carrots, “And make it hollow in the middle, it’ll be easier to move around--and you can make it compatible that way too.”

“Ready?” Gale asks.

“We’ve been ready.” you eat the cold, slimy carrots.

Gale fires the arrow, and right when it hits the bullseye, it explodes into fire. The entire target, the wall behind it, mostly the floor and some get onto the ceiling too. The crew runs forward, putting out the fire before it can spread across the entire room.

You look at Beetee, “See? Not too shabby.”

“Know any ways to make them waterproof?”

“Wax, water rolls right off of it. Don’t lay it on too thick, and you’ll be just fine.” You set the empty tray onto the table, “

“They should have sent you down here sooner.” Gale says, coming back over, “Imagine how much faster all of this would have been made.”

“Beetee would have gotten fed up with me, if he isn’t already.” you say, stretching.

“You’re not too bad to be around.”

“You only like me because I make your weapon engineering much easier. I’m able to catch your mistakes before you even make them.” you tuck your legs in.

He ignores what you said, moving on to Gale, “How’s Katniss doing?”

Gale doesn’t give much of an answer, “Recovering.”

“Let me guess, she’s still mad at you?” you raise your eyebrows. For this, he tells you to shut up. You shrug, getting back to the sketch you were working on for your own personal weapon, “Hey, if you can’t see how out of line you were, then that’s your deal.”

“How was I out of line?”

You place the sketchbook on your knee, “Dude, you called her fiance weak for doing what he could to stay alive. Obviously you two are still pretty close after that, but I wouldn’t have made a comment like that.” you pause for a moment, looking at Gale, “Then again, you don’t know what it’s like to be under a microscope, you can run your mouth all you want, because you were nothing but a coal miner.”

Gale practically rolls his eyes, “I know what it’s like, Katniss had to start calling me her cousin.”

“Katniss was the one being watched, don’t flatter yourself.” you go back to what you were doing.

“She’s right.” Beetee chips in, “(Y/n), I mean.”

“Right.”

The sound of boots on cement makes you look up, expecting Gale to be the one walking away. He doesn’t normally like to take shit from you or Beetee. Coming down here is like a safe place, allowing him to vent and blow steam when he gets to test out the new fancy weapons.

Gale stands right where he was before, which means that it’s someone else. And since Beetee can’t walk, you turn around in the chair to see who it is.

It’s Finnick. His hands are in his pockets, with a gleeful smile on his face, “Good afternoon.”

Gale is just as suspicious as you are, “What are you up to?”

“What was I up to.” he corrects, coming to a stop behind your chair, “It’s a surprise.”

Beetee makes a face, and then wheels himself around so that he’s facing the table again. As he gets back to work, you resume critiquing Gale, and Finnick finds where he wants to be.

“Gale, don’t get me wrong, I can sorta see where you’re coming from, but you need to see it from our perspective too.” you drop your leg, “Let’s compare you to Peeta, since you were doing that already by saying you’d never say what you said.

“He had absolutely no clue what the fuck was going on. Peeta didn’t know that there was a plan to get him and Katniss out of the arena, he didn’t know that Coin was planning on using Katniss as a symbol. The only things he did know was what the Capitol fed him to get him on their side.

“And if you still can’t see eye to eye with it, imagine a gun pointed to Katniss’ head. If you so much as step out of line in a way that Snow doesn’t like, he’ll shoot her. It’s not his family, friend or girlfriend that he’s killing, it’s yours. And if you don’t cooperate after Katniss, he’s grabbing the next dearest thing to you.” you lean back in the chair, “And before you say shit, Snow literally did that to me twice. First was right after I won my games and he killed my entire family, and the second time was when we found Tanith dead in a chair. It’s a little different for Tanith, because she was already dead, but he still tried to use her against me.”

“Okay, but what were they threatening Peeta with?”

“His life, for starters.” Finnick says, “And likely his family too.”

Gale doesn’t say anything after that.

“How’s this design?” You offer the sketchbook for Beetee, and he takes it.

“We could probably start this now.” Beetee says, “Mind doing something for Finnick, too?”

“Sure.”

He hands it back, but Finnick takes it before you’re able to grab a hold of it. Sighing, you look up at Finnick, watching his face as he looks over the page, “These are swords.”

“Sai’s.” you correct.

Finnick gives you a look, “But it says right here--”

“--that it’s basically a sword, yes, I know. Normally they’re used to disarm someone--as I showed you before. But I want some that are actually sharp. Blunt force trauma is fun, but what’s even more fun is spilling someone’s guts in front of them.”

Finnick hands the book back, “Sword.”

“Sure.” you cross your legs, “What are you here for, other to annoy me?”

“Keeping an eye on you three for the next couple of hours.” Finnick pulls up a chair of his own, mirroring your stance.

“Sounds exciting.”

Everything falls back into rhythm. Beetee goes back to tinkering on arrows, having Gale use the decoys. And the times he’s not shooting arrows, he’s sitting in a chair talking to you guys. You cough up a couple of sketches for Beetee, hoping that it’ll be good enough.

You might be the one from District Two, but that doesn’t mean you actually put things together. The legal age to actually get into the warehouses is eighteen, and since you went into the games at sixteen and won, you never really had to work. You’ve sat on money for your entire life. The only people that worked were your parents, aunts and uncles and some of your cousins.

Those same cousins taught you how to put things together before your games--obviously. During family get togethers, you’d all disappear for a little while, which is when they’d take the chance. They always thought it was so cool to pass on forbidden knowledge, and have it all be a secret between you guys.

They had this secret stash of gadgets inside of a log, and they’d fuck around with it until it turned into something dangerous. Honestly, the first thing you learned from them was the molotov, and when you threw it on a rock, it exploded and the dead grass around it caught fire.

Cue you all scooping the gadgets into your shirts and taking off behind the houses to get as far as possible. Your older cousin had a backup spot not too far away, you dumped all the shit there and got back to the house in record time. Before the firefighters had even left their stations.

It’s a wonder why you weren’t caught, cause that wasn’t the first time that area specifically had been set on fire, and it wouldn’t be the last either. The firefighters definitely had an idea of why it would always set ablaze, but never pursued it. After a while, they started to monitor the place on extremely hot days, thinking that it was the sun that was starting the fires.

If only they had known that it was a bunch of teenagers doing that shit for fun.

After a while, Beetee gets tired of the arrows and starts over to the crew to begin making the sai’s. While they’re heating up the metal, he gets to making the hilt.

“I feel like we’re doing more work than we have to.” you look at Beetee.

“Do you want it to be fucked up, or do you want it to be done right the first time?” He raises his glasses above his eyes when he looks right back at you.

“The first time.” you sigh.

When you get back to work, Finnick moves in closer, curious as to how you’re designing his new weapon. Every now and then he’ll point out the practicalities, and weighing in on how he would rather it be built.

“This doesn’t even look like a trident anymore.” you hold the journal away from your face, and turn it so it’s long-ways since the entire trident spans over both pages, “It’s basically the opposite.”

“But think of it this way.” Finnick reaches over, touching where the blades of the trident are, “Initial stab, right? But the rest of this does more damage.”

There’s a spear point at the top of the trident, which isn’t the problem. That’s pretty normal when it comes to the design. However, instead of wanting all the other blades facing up and towards it, he wants it downwards.

“And you can even make it compatible!” Finnick grins.

“At least we agree on one thing.” You pass the journal to him, “Go ahead and show Beetee, he’s the one in charge.”

Finnick goes over, and it’s basically halfway across the room, since Beetee is hovering over the crew’s work like a hawk. He wasn’t playing around when he said that he would like it to be perfect the first time around.

“Finnick’s into you.” Gale says.

“You say that like he’s not my soulmate.” you give Gale a look, “Also, I’m not into Finnick.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not a teenager and I don’t date people right after they broke up with their girlfriends.” you turn back to Finnick to see that he’s discussing the weapon with Beetee and a crew member.

“If there was no Annie, would you have dated him then?”

You squint, “No.”

Gale laughs, but doesn’t say anything because Finnick is heading your guys’ way again. He drops the journal in Beetee’s workspace on his way over, “Beetee will start it tonight.”

“Cool.” you get up, picking up the lunch tray, “Am I free to leave now?”

“Yes,” Finnick says, but he makes a point to stay in front of both you and Gale.

“See ya later, Beetee!” you shout, “Send someone if you need my help.”

He waves, and then goes back to hovering.

Finnick starts up the staircase first, and Gale walks beside you, “Any progress on Peeta?”

Gale rolls his eyes, you can feel it, “Same as he was before. I saw him before coming here.”

“Katniss still saying no?” you look over.

Gale nods.

“That’s reasonable, I wouldn’t want to go near him either…” you trail off for a moment, and then laugh to yourself.

Finnick glances over his shoulder curiously, “What is it?”

You chuckle a bit, “Out of everyone, I’m definitely last on the list of people he wants to see.”

“Why’s that?”

Your smile is small as you look at your feet, rather than up at Finnick, “I nearly killed Peeta.”

“After the birds? I know--” Finnick says.

“No, after. After you had been pulled out of the arena, did I tell either of you that story?”

Gale says no, which is expected, but Finnick thinks about it before answerings, “We talked about emotion when you first got here, and how intense it was.”

“Well, after I left the lightning tree, my real goal was to go downhill and straight for the cornucopia. I thought that if the jungle were to burn, I would need to take my chances in the middle. On the way, I found a livid Peeta, and a strangely calm Johanna.” you smile, “Peeta started screaming at me instead, and Johanna urged me not to do anything.

“But then Peeta backed me into a rock, so when I got up, I punched him twice. Kicked him a couple of times while he was down, and then Johanna stepped in--” Finnick has slowed down now, he watches you, “--and naturally I knocked her out with a single right hook, since she’s… weak to say the least. She hit her head on a rock on the way down, and I thought I’d finish her off later.

“As for Peeta, it was just him and I.” the smile develops into a grin, “I was about to rip him apart--and I mean minutes from doing it. But then the peacekeepers came and I thought that it would be better to leave the situation as it was.”

“You’re… sadistic.” Gale says.

“I’ve heard it all before.” you say, looking at Finnick.

“At least you didn’t kill them.” Finnick says.

“Peeta knew that I was about to. Doesn’t matter if I did it or not.”

Gale laughs now, “You should go visit him to see what he says.”

“He’d probably get mad at me for not killing him when I had the chance. I’m surprised he didn’t strangle me in that hovercraft.”

“The tracker jacker venom fucked with his head, he probably barely recognized you.” Gale says.

At the top of the staircase, Finnick stops you, “We’ll see you later, Gale.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m going to see Boggs.”

You salute as a joke, getting an eye roll in return. Finnick purposely waits until Gale is gone, and then he moves out of your way, “You’re getting better.”

“At making people like me?” you ask, giving Finnick a look, “You know, a genius once told me that I’m not as dislikable as I think.”

Finnick raises his eyebrows, “A genius you say?”

“Maybe not a genius.” you laugh, and Finnick joins in, “So what were you up to?”

“You’ll see in a couple of hours.”

“Is that why we aren’t getting off on the floor we normally do?” you stare at your feet.

“We’re heading straight for the medical floor to Johanna.”

You stop on the stairs, and Finnick gets a couple of steps above you, “Did you not just hear my whole story?”

“The worst Johanna will do is run her mouth about the fact that you didn’t kill her when you had the chance. And if you don’t believe me, you can ask one of the nurses. We’ve heard her speech a couple of times now.”

“Then can I opt out and go to the dorm instead?” you start up the stairs again.

“You’re really going to leave me to talk to Johanna?”

Your eyebrows draw together, “You’re the one that wants to see her!”

“Come on, we see Johanna and then we go to the dorm right after, I promise.” Finnick says.

You hold out your pinky for Finnick, and with a slight chuckle, he pinky promises you. The two of you resume your journey up the stairs, and then he says, “Unless we talk for too long.”

You press your lips together, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. He laughs anyway.

When the two of you reach Johanna’s room, you hang by the door, not really wanting to go inside. You don’t like the look of the room, much less the idea of being back inside of it. Ever since you’ve been granted the freedom, you’ve made a point of not coming back to the hospital--or infirmary--floor, no matter the reason.

The other day, you cut your hand on a blade down in the workshop. The crew had wanted to call someone down to come and take care of you, and you barely stopped them in time. Over your dead body, would you be brought back here to sit and wallow in white for a couple of days.

Especially over something as childish as a cut. So, you found the first aid kit, cleaned out the wound and Beetee stitched it up for you. The crew was a little surprised how calm you were during the entire procedure but the only thing you had to say was ‘high pain tolerance’ after all your years of bullshit.

So being back here makes you nervous. As if someone will pop out from one of the walls and tie you down to a bed for absolutely no reason. You’re perfectly healthy, and the nurses and doctors knew this. Even after you had tests that came back negative for poison in your system, you were required to stay.

Finnick and Johanna’s conversation is surprisingly normal and boring. There was absolutely no reason for you to tag along, except for Finnick’s own request. The only reason why you’re here is to be nice.

As if Finnick’s read your mind, he looks at you, “(Y/n) been helping Beetee out in the workshop lately, designing weapons.”

Johanna’s eyes drag over to you, bored of it already, “She’s being helpful for once?”

You stare at her.

“She’s done quite a lot, Johanna.” Finnick says, looking back at her, “She’s the one that opened the conversation about rescuing you and the others from the Capitol.”

“For her own benefit.” Johanna laughs, “Because she can’t stand being alone. It’s why she’s kept you around so long, you know? Not because she likes you, but because she needs another soul to harvest. She’s like the fucking grim reaper.” she looks at you now, “A heartless murderer.”

You take a deep breath, and then a smile spreads over your face, “I should have killed you when I had the chance. At least then, there would be one less leech on the morphling supply.” you spit, “You deserve everything that Snow gave you, the waterboarding, the near-drowning. It’s a shame that he only kept you alive so you’d suffer and become nothing but another downer on everyone around you.”

Finnick’s head whips in your direction, clearly not expecting the outburst. You’ve been so good for so long, but there’s something about Johanna that just gets you steaming.

“I should have stomped your head into that fucking rock in front of Peeta.” you seethe, “And then I should’ve beaten Peeta to death, because you two weren’t nearly worth sacrificing my life over.” you shake your head, “You’re nothing but another morphling addict. Another victor that couldn’t take the fucking heat. If I were you, I’d just kill myself from how embarrased I’d be.”

Johanna’s been smiling at you the entire time, like she wanted this sort of reaction, and so you finish it off, “It’s probably how Blight felt too.”

Her smile drops, and her hand is reaching towards the needles in her arms before her feet have even hit the ground. You stand your ground, allowing Finnick to get her to stop because she does some real damage to her veins.

“(Y/n)--go!” Finnick’s angry, and he glares at you over his shoulder.

“My fucking pleasure.” you spit, leaving the doorway.

It was worth it. Every word that left your mouth was fucking worth it. Being nice to people is such a fucking chore, especially when it’s towards people who don’t deserve it.

You stand in the stairwell for a moment, thinking about where you’d want to go. But there’s really no place that’s safe if Finnick comes looking for you. The workshop and dorm are an obvious place, as well as the stream you stumbled upon. He’ll check with Boggs and Gale--and there’s no one else here that likes you.

You hate it here.

You thought you would be able to make this place feel like a real home and maybe even like it, but it’s not worth it. This whole place isn’t worth it to you.

Everything inside of you is a frenzy.

You have to go home.

You start up the staircase, knowing that seeing Plutarch and finding a ride would be the place to start. He might not be happy about it, but there’s really no need for you here. You’re not doing anything besides designing personal weapons that Beetee likes and doesn’t like.

Occasionally you’re genuinely helpful with dumb shit, but that’s the extent of it. Other than that, you’re miserable. The freedom you have isn’t actual freedom.

You hop up the last couple of steps, and round the corner to the door to the control room. You practically throw it open, nearly letting it hit the wall, when your hand appears between the crack to stop it.

At your appearance, a few people look over. The only eyes who stick are Boggs, Gale, Haymitch and Plutarch.

“Where’s Finnick?” Gale asks.

“Not his owner,” you go down the steps, eyes on Plutarch, “I want a ride to District Two. Your next hovercraft is mine to take.”

Boggs stands up, crossing his arms, “What about the workshop?”

“Boring, Beetee has it under control.”

“And Finnick?” Haymitch asks, “I thought you were just liking it here--”

“I’m a liar.”

Gale sighs, “Tell us what happened.”

“Johanna and I are going to end up killing each other the next time we come face to face.” your eyes land on Plutarch to see he has an eye on his watch, “So unless you feel like cleaning up a dead body, I’ll take one free ticket to District Two.”

“The next hovercraft is leaving in fifteen minutes.” Plutarch looks up now, “I’ll call in and let them know you’re going.”

“Does Finnick know you’re doing this?” Gale asks, “He’s going to be upset if we have to tell him--”

“It’s his fault for getting attached to me.” your face is serious, and then the smile spreads over your face, because of the irony of that statement. After what Johanna had said… “He’s your problem now, good luck.”

You go up the steps, heading right out the door you came in. You can’t take the staircase to the top, so you make your way to the elevator instead. You press the button, waiting patiently with a smile on your face.

The hovercrafts that they’re using to get the supplies to and from District Two are the slow type. District Thirteen is in no rush to get the crates there, so it won’t be a surprise to you if it takes more than just a couple of hours for you to get there. Or if it makes stops along the way.

The elevator arrives, you pull up the safety bar, and then step inside, pulling it back down. You punch the top floor button with your thumb, then you go to stare as the floors disappear beneath your feet.

At least back home you don’t have to act and lie for the happiness of others. Especially if your first and only stop is going to be your house in victor’s village. And if you need groceries, it looks like you’ll be hunting for food to eat. Or you might actually have to go into town and ransack the already destroyed buildings.

Most of the people that used to own the shops are probably dead, or they won’t be returning back home for a while. The entirety of victor’s village is going to be a graveyard--there might even still be rotting bodies inside of the houses. If the smell is too unbearable, you could always bury the corpses yourself.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

At the top, there’s someone waiting on the ramp. You don’t bother waiting for them to tell you to hurry it up, you start jogging immediately. The faster you get on, the faster you can take off.

“I’m ready.” you say when you get to the ramp.

“Good, take a seat and strap in.” the man follows you in.

The whole district is in ruins.

The last time you were here, everything seemed to be in near perfect condition, apart from the obvious looting that had taken place. The broken windows, and the wood splinters in the gravel could be easily looked over. But it’s much harder to see this place as it once was.

Most stores and houses that were made out of wood, and had been passed down from generation to generation have been burned to ashes or their cement flooring. There’s nothing left of them, not the furniture inside, and definitely not the foundation. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that they were vacant lots.

If they couldn’t burn, then they were bombed. Chunks of cement and brick have now joined the mixture in the gravel. The roofs have long since caved in, and just one gust of wind makes the walls shudder. All it would take is one more bomb dropped in this area, and it all would come crashing down.

The air around you is hardly breathable too. Before you had stepped off the hovercraft you were given a mask--not the same gas mask that you’d used during the tribute center invasion--and a pair of sunglasses that would help you see through the debris and smoke.

It’s almost like fog, but so much worse. It’s smoke from fires that can’t be put out, and it’s from the bombs that are from your own district. The loyalists and the rebels are still fighting over this place. Katniss’ visit here hadn’t done much good, in fact you’d say that it made it a lot worse.

As you wander through the streets towards victor’s village, you come up with a lousy plan that’ll likely get you killed.

Coin had thought that sending Katniss here was a good idea, but it wasn’t by any means. Katniss got a bullet to her ribs, which bruised a ton of them, and put her right back into a hospital bed. They clearly didn’t think about what would happen if you mix people who don’t mind the games, with someone who’s leading a rebellion.

You’ve seen the speech, and as heartfelt as it was, it’s not what they want to hear.

Here’s the way you saw it at first; this girl from the poorest part of District Twelve is kicking up a rebellion that’ll likely destroy the system that’s making District Two rich, and the favorite. District Two thinks that they’re going to get everything taken away from them. Their houses, nice clothes and furniture, the good paying jobs.

You would all much rather send in the two kids a year--mostly because your children are prepared ahead of time, and therefore the career districts have nothing to lose--than take the risk of getting everything taken away. The Capitol absolutely adores you guys, with all that you supply them.

So, instead of having the girl that’s leading the rebellion try and convince the loyalists that they’re on the wrong side. You have someone who’s lived in the same luxury as them do it instead. How is Katniss supposed to understand how you all feel? She despised the games, while the rest of you adored it.

The outsider districts don’t understand the need for luxury and favoritism. They’ve lived on the hated side of the Capitol for a long time. The Capitol expects them to underperform in the games, so that’s why they don’t ever see the spotlight until they get a winner.

Anyway, you’re going to get to your house, change into something that says ‘living in luxury’ and then march your way to the justice building. There, you won’t ask for any sort of protection but an escort there instead. You won’t carry any weapons, you won’t pull on a bulletproof vest.

If they shoot you, then they’ll have made their choice very clear.

The gate entrance to the village is all sorts of broken. You barely push the metal door open, and the entire thing falls apart in your hands. You have to prop it up against the fence, being sure that it won’t fall over before you move on to go inside. Then, you waste no time with a quick jog through.

The fountain in the first part of the village is dry. The cement is no longer grey, it’s black from the amount of fire that must have washed through here. On the tiles that line the bottom, there’s melted coins. You’re tempted to reach in and pick one out when you realize just how bad of an idea that is.

You continue down the stone brick path after that, taking in note of every house that you pass. The doors are slightly ajar, most windows seem to be shattered, and a couple are burned down to the foundation. Most still stand though, Sorcha, Enobaria, Brutus, Tanith and Zavian’s seem to be in good condition.

As for Lyme, her house is completely gone. You have an idea that it might be because of the fact that she’s helping the rebels, and some of the loyalists must’ve gotten behind their lines to come and burn hers down specifically. As for the others, there must be a bigger story behind it.

As you come into the third part of the neighborhood, you cross your fingers as you hope it’s not like Lyme’s. You just want a moment inside of a clean house, to be able to go upstairs and find out that there’s running water. Then you’ll take a shower, get dressed in fancy clothing and put on makeup as if there isn’t hellfire around you.

It takes you a moment to find it, because all the houses in this section are still standing. And then you realize that your house is the only one that looks fresh. It hasn’t been touched by all the ash and smoke, it’s still as bright white as the day you received it. Perfect condition.

No windows are broken, the wood and cement show no signs of it being on fire at any point in time. The door is shut tight, a little stuck so you have to rattle the handle until it comes loose. You swing the door wide open, standing in the doorway as you wait to see a mess.

But it’s clean. Of course, the house has collected dust, but there’s no blood. There’s no broken vases, or stuffing all over the floor. It’s how you left it.

You shut the door behind you, locking it for good measure. As you go inside, you can’t help but to look around and gape like you’re on a house tour. Nothing has been touched, which is the part that baffles you the most. Both the inside and outside are great.

For a moment, you’re not sure why you’re so surprised that nothing had happened--apart from the fact that the whole neighborhood is disgusting. And then you remember the last time you came home from the games. With the house torn apart with dead bodies frozen in time.

“He seriously fucked me up, didn’t he?” you ask, laughing to yourself.

The house does smell pretty bad though, and the scent only gets stronger the more you head towards the kitchen. You have to plug your nose, strictly breathing in and out through your mouth, blinking away the tears that form in your eyes. It’s just so strong…

Going through the doorway, you take your time to look for anything that might be off. There is nothing, but you’re sure that it was coming from here specifically, and the second that you test the water with a breath of air through your nose, you gag. You go back to breathing through your mouth, even though you can taste the toxicity.

It’s not gas, that’s for sure. It’s something else…

The kitchen, the smell, the fact you haven’t been here--it’s the fridge. The food inside of the fridge and the cupboards are likely rotting. You can picture the mold in your mind already, and you shiver a little. Deciding that it’s better not to investigate further, you head straight upstairs instead.

On the way to your room, you can’t help but to pop open the doors and take a look inside. It’s just the paranoia now that’s making you do this. You don’t think you’ll find anyone in here, it’s just the thought of someone maybe hiding and waiting for you. A house like yours shouldn’t be in perfect condition, not after everything that’s happened.

And yet, there is nothing. Not even in your master bedroom, and not in the bathroom either. Despite this, you also lock your bedroom door, stripping on the way to the bathroom. And when you get inside of there, you lock that one too. For a second, the water in the shower runs cold, but then it turns warm.

While you let it heat up a little more, you take a look at yourself in the mirror for the first time in a couple of weeks. The mirrors that they have in District Thirteen are practically useless, they might as well not have them at all. You can barely see your face in them, and they’re permanently fogged over. At first, you thought that there was a protective film, until you realized that they were just shit quality.

Your fingers dance along the scars that cover you from head to toe. You turn your body to get a better angle, only to be disappointed when they continue. You force yourself to lean onto the counter, even though you’re so incredibly uncomfortable now, but curiosity is what’s fueling it all.

Then you’re able to see that the spider bite scars exist on your face too. They’re faint though, not too noticeable. What is noticeable, is the fact that there’s a scar that’s right beneath your eye. It’s so small that you can see it, even with you leaning over the counter.

You wipe the fog off the mirror, hopping onto the counter. You’re basically pressed against the mirror with how you’re seated as you desperately try to see what the fuck is beneath your eye. Wiping the mirror again, you take your chance to see.

C.S.

Your face twists as you back up, trying to think of who has those initials. Much less who would leave it on you like they’re marking their territory. You slide off the counter, rubbing beneath your eye, wishing that it’ll just go away, but it won’t.

Then it clicks, and you almost wish it hadn’t.

Coriolanus Snow.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, mouth hanging open as you watch the fog take over the mirror again, and your naked figure is covered up as a result.

He marked you. Snow fucking marked you like you’re his pet.

Your hand has swiped the vase off the counter before you’ve realized it. It isn’t until it’s shattered, when you’re jumping out of your skin. Even then, you’re still captivated by the amount of rage that’s running through your veins.

“Motherfucker!” you yell, digging your nail into the spot, gritting your teeth when it hurts. But it has to go. It has to be defaced. You won’t be seen as his. You don’t belong to Snow.

It’s a relief when your bare nail breaks skin. Though, more pain spikes in that one spot, and even in your eye a little bit. You lean on the counter, squeezing your eyes shut and giving yourself a moment to recover before you head into the shower.

You can’t fucking believe this.

You had always told yourself that you would be saving this dress for an occasion that you’d never be able to replicate. No weddings, funerals or parties. No victory tour, no get together, no reaping. You had to save it for something that would be groundbreaking, something that would change the game altogether.

At first, you didn’t want to pick it up for even this. Then you remembered that you have a chance of dying, and thought that was an event you’d never be able to replicate. Because you’d be dead.

And now that you’re walking to the justice buildings, holding the dress up so that it doesn’t get caught in the gravel and what lies inside of you, you’re beginning to see that you’ve got to make it count. Not the dress, but this entire encounter. If they don’t end up killing you, they’re definitely not going to let you come back again. Not peacefully, at least.

All you have to do is make them hesitate. Make them think for the rebel’s side for a second. That’s all you need. A moment of apprehension that they’ll never be able to take back. And since you’re pretty good at playing devil's advocate, this will be a walk in the park.

Seeing a sudden blast of dust and dirt heading your way, you make a home behind a building, aiming the umbrella you’re holding towards the corner that’s closest to you. It takes a moment before the dust storm comes through. The rocks pelt the plastic, and they attack your bare legs.

Since the umbrella is see-through, you’re able to tell when it dies down. You don’t wait to make sure that it’s over completely, because you never know when another gust will roll on in. At some point in time, you recognize the streets that the scouting group had brought you through, so you take that carefully.

You’re still fairly surprised that Paylor and Lyme hadn’t taken your statement of a survey group into consideration. And if they did, then that didn’t last as long as you thought it would. It’s literally only been two to three weeks since you were here last.

You guess that just means that they can’t spare the people as much as they could before. Which says a lot--that they’re losing the battle they swore that they’d be able to win. Coin said in one of her speeches that it wouldn’t be easy, and it would take a while. And here you are, thinking that you’ll be able to change their minds in a day.

“Watch this.” you smile to yourself.

You go around a corner, only to stop dead in your tracks. Standing right in front of you are some pretty armored people, holding a gun pointed straight at your chest.

“State your name and business.”

“I see Lyme’s upgraded her shitty guards.” you give him a smile, “(Y/n) Rosecelli.”

He lowers the gun, “You’re supposed to be in District Thirteen.”

“It’s not as glamorous as it seems.” you say, continuing your way down the alley, “Quite boring. Is Lyme in the justice building?”

“Yes, I can bring--”

“I’ve got it.” you cut him off, leaving him behind you.

“I wouldn’t recommend going that way.”

“Whatever!” you shout, going right out.

The steps to the building are pretty wrecked, but there’s just enough stone for you to be able to go up them. You hike the dress up a little higher, stomping your heels when you step, as you try to get the gravel and glass off your shoes. The people standing outside the building seem confused at first.

“Excuse me.” you say, moving right past them as you head through the doors.

You take the stairs up, still having an iron grip on the dress. You won’t let it down until you’re standing in front of rebels. You swear on everything.

You pass a third set of guards on your way inside of the meeting room that they had used the first time. When the door pops open, you can see a familiar face on the hologram screen. Alma Coin.

Paylor and Lyme look over simultaneously to see who’s entered the room.

“(Y/n)’s here.” Lyme says, standing up now.

“Good.” Coin says, “Won’t you join us?”

You make a face, stepping inside and shutting the door. You don’t head that far inside, sticking rather close to the door, but still in sight of the camera.

“Finnick’s been looking everywhere for you.” Coin tells you calmly, “We just broke the news to him.”

“And?” you ask.

“He’s disappointed that he went through all that trouble to throw a party for you.”

So that’s what he was doing earlier. Throwing you a party, and for what? God, you can’t imagine the headache you would have had through the whole thing. Fake a smile, pretend to like it. The only parties you do like are the types that go on inside of the Capitol.

It’s all lavish there. The foods are delicious, the sweets and the sour foods. The drinks they have that you swear are going to make you dehydrated, but you drink anyway. The people there are always so friendly, even when they aren’t. They’re so stupid and naive that it makes it enjoyable to be around them.

Not to mention they worshipped you.

“Am I supposed to care?” you ask, crossing your arms, “Can’t be a very good party with your district. The entire thing is probably being attended by a total of ten people, and the food and drinks are twenty years old. I’m not missing out on anything, trust me.”

Coin bites her tongue, smiling, “Maybe it’s best that you’re back in District Two, then.”

“I’m done talking to you.” you give her a mock smile, turning to Lyme and Paylor, “I’m going to solve this whole loyalist problem for you in a second. Do you want to send a camera crew with me just in case it works?”

Lyme’s confused, “No offense, but what makes you think it’ll work? Especially with your mouth?”

“Cause I know you guys have been approaching it all wrong, and rather than having a second person fuck it up for you ingrates, I’ll do it myself. I may be selfish but I’m also open minded and have a way of words when I’m not being a complete bitch.” you look at Coin, “And if it does work, you don’t get to say you planned it at all. I’m not Katniss, and I won’t be easily manipulated.

“On top of that, you’ll also owe me a shiny, brand new apartment in the heart of the Capitol. Otherwise you can take that propaganda footage and shove it up that ass of yours.” you point to Lyme and Paylor, “Camera crew, now.”

You leave the room after that, and Paylor approves the camera crew, asking one of the people in the room with them to go ahead and gather the people. In the meantime, you take a look at yourself in the nearest bathroom. Your makeup and hair are still how you left it, and the dress isn’t that dirty either.

When you get outside, there’s people already waiting to take you to the tunnels. And for their protection, they’re bringing volunteers with them. As for you, you’ll be out in the open just as you asked for.

“I live in luxury.” you tell yourself, raising your head a bit, “I belong in the Capitol. I am a loyalist. These rebels have no idea what they’re doing.”

You take the train tracks straight to the tunnel. The mountain has long since collapsed, which drew out most of the loyalists. And with Katniss’ speech after, a few surrendered. But there’s still plenty of people inside of there.

“I don’t know if we can follow you inside.” one of the girls tells you nervously, “It’s dark and unhealthy in there. If they begin firing, we’ll be the first to be brought down.”

“No, I will.” you say, “They’ll likely let you all live. If those cameras zoom well, keep as much of a distance as you can spare.”

The girl nods, “We trust you.”

You press your lips together, because it’s a first, “If I reach for my dress and turn my body like I’m going to run, you should take off immediately. I don’t plan on running, but I will if it gets too risky.”

“We’ll keep an eye out, I promise.”

Inside the tunnel, it’s even dirtier than you expected. Nonetheless, you all push through. The camera crew and the couple of armed people have masks over their face, but you work right through the dirt and smoke filled air. Even if you put a mask on now, you’ll have to take it off to talk anyway. There would be no point to it, you’re going to breathe in the air whether you like it or not.

“Stop!” A voice shouts, and you all come to a halt.

“Stay here.” you tell the crew.

Lights turn on, you cover your eyes for a moment as you blink through, trying to get adjusted to them. When you lower your hand, you can see that there’s several people ready to shoot you, and what looks like hundreds of people ready to back them up. The lights are coming from the train right in front of you.

“My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, I’m here to speak to whoever is in charge, face to face.” you move forward, but stop a little bit after that, not wanting to push your limits.

Someone appears on the top of the train, an automatic rifle in his hands, “You shouldn’t be in here.”

You drop the dress down now, “No, I shouldn’t. This place is unfathomably filthy, and I can’t imagine how hard it is to breathe the air in here. What’s your name?”

“Jovian.”

“You know why I’m here, right?” you ask, crossing your arms, your eyes wandering over all the people waiting to see what happens.

“It’s pretty obvious, which is why I should let you know it’s not going to work, and you should leave while you can.” he tells you, “Or I’ll just make an example of you, just like how we did with Katniss.”

“Except Katniss is still alive in District Thirteen, you didn’t actually kill her.” you tell him, “Healthy as a horse, she was up on her feet the same day, ready to come right back here and give you guys a second chance.”

They won’t know you’re lying.

“We should’ve gone for her head.”

You ignore that, “There’s a big difference between Katniss and I, though. Katniss grew up in the poorest part of twelve, and I grew up in what was arguable once the richest parts of District Two. And then I won the games and got more money than I knew what to do with, and she didn’t have any time to get to realize her luxury.

“Because of this, she’ll never understand what you’ll have to sacrifice if you do take part in the fight. You’re putting everything up for a gamble. Your house, your clothes, furniture, a family. And you’d have to do it without knowing the outcome of a rebellion.”

Jovian nods slowly, “You get it.”

“Of course I do, I was once a Capitol pet too, and then Snow ended up killing my family, and then my friends on top of that.” you motion with your hand, “And I saw the type of people that we were supporting all this time. They’re nothing worth supporting, Jovian. I can promise you that.”

Jovian shakes his head, “What if you lose, huh? The district is already in deep shit because half of us are rebels, what if there’s a chance that the people who don’t fight with you, get rewarded?”

You snort, “You think he’s writing down names? You think he gives a shit if some of you were helping, and the others weren’t? All he’s going to see is that District Two had tried to help the rebels, and suddenly we’re all fucked. So why not give in? You know what will happen if there are no more hunger games, no more districts, no more districts versus the Capitol bullshit?

“You’d be able to live wherever you want--the Capitol, here, any of the other districts, places that were off limits, maybe even in some of the arenas that had gone untouched. You would work if you want to, and have a million kids without worrying about teaching them how to fight.

“There would be no more worries, Jovian. You’d still get to live the same, but it would be that much more freedom. And even if you wouldn’t want to live in any of those other places, you’d be able to visit them whenever you want. Take a vacation to the Capitol and come home to a sturdy house. And for anyone who hasn't found their soulmate because they exist in a different district, you’d have a greater chance of finding them.”

The silence that fills the tunnel is surprisingly calm, it isn’t as tense as you thought it would be. Jovian is obviously thinking all of this through.

“But we can’t win this without District Two. If we get those warehouses pumping out weapons, we’ll win this, guaranteed. It’ll be difficult, as all wars are, but we’ll win for once. We’ll get the justice we deserve, Snow will pay for all the shit he’s done.” you insist, “If you guys come with me now, there’s no hard feelings.

“There’s food, water, clothes, medicine. All you’d have to do is come with us now, and we’ll get you cleaned up, one at a time.”

Jovian looks down at you, “And you can promise us this?”

You look behind you, straight at one of the guards, “Get Paylor to confirm this.”

It takes a moment, but when her voice comes over the tunnel, echoing, saying all of what you said is true, you can’t help but to give a hopeful look to Jovian.

He takes in a deep breath, “Okay.”

“That’s just you, though.” you look to all the others, past the lights, “How about you guys? Are you willing to fight?”

“Will you be fighting with us?” someone yells to you.

This question you weren’t expecting, but you find yourself nodding before you can catch it, “Every step of the way.”

“Then sign me up.” A girl starts coming forward, behind her trails a couple of kids, they come in a line, all holding hands. She walks right past you guys.

It takes a moment before others start breaking off in groups. Jovian gives you a look, “These are my people.”

“They’re our people now.” You correct him, “And they’re going to be safe. Pack the hurt into the train and get this baby moving out here.”

You turn around, heading towards the camera, “Is it still running?”

“Yes.”

You look straight into the camera lense, “Twenty-three kids have died every year for the past seventy-four years. That’s one thousand, seven hundred and one kids that have died in the hunger games. Nearly two thousand of your kids have gone into an arena, scared and alone.

“They wouldn’t know where their next meal would come from, they didn’t know if they would get sponsors or if they were worthy of them. They likely shivered and starved and were dehydrated down to their very last days. And while it was happening, all they could picture was their blue face in the night sky, signaling another fallen tribute.

“And you’re telling me, that now there’s a rebellion happening--one that will stop a cycle of heartless and meaningless murder--you’re not going to help? You’ll finally be able to have kids, and not worry about training them the moment that they’re born. No more staying up all night worrying that it’ll be your kid picked during the reaping.

“But we can’t get there if you don’t help.” You then lean a forward, “And Coriolanus, if you’re watching, I’d like to let you know that I found the scar you left on my face. You can mark me all you fucking want, but I haven’t done your bidding since I was sixteen. How’s this for calming down District Two?”

You stand up again, “For those of you who don’t know, my name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, I won the sixty-sixth hunger games when I was sixteen. I’m from District Two, and I have to admit that I have lived in luxury since the day I was born, and coming to terms with a rebellion that has ruined my whole lifestyle, isn’t easy.

“However, if I can see past all my greediness to realize that it’s unfair that I can live in luxury and others live in dirt, then you can too. There will be no more inequality, everyone will be able to live in a stable environment, and if you don’t want that, then you’re just as ill as Snow is.”

You turn to leave after that, hiking up the dress in the front so you don’t end up stepping on it and make a fool out of yourself in the process. It’s a couple of moments before the others are scrambling to follow.

“Are you really going to fight with us?” The girl asks.

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

She’s quiet for a moment, “You just don’t look like you’d been into that type of thing.”

You look at her, “Don’t be fooled by the dress and makeup. I’m a lot more than a pretty face.”

“We’ll have to get you fitted for clothing, then. You can’t march to the Capitol in a dress.”

You end the conversation, not saying anything else to her. What she said is obvious, you know that you’ll have to be dressed properly. Hell, you know what’s happening in the Capitol at the moment.

Nothing slips past you. You hear everything when it comes to secrets. You knew Johanna had been waterboarded because she failed some sort of swimming test, nearly took down a couple of people during her panic. And you knew that her and Blight were a little more than friends too.

Just like how you know that the Capitol is turning into a whole trap. Snow is planting these pods—as Beetee called them—that are near impossible to keep track of. Snow is pulling in the Capitol citizens closer, allowing him to plant more pods. Hundreds of them, every single day.

Which means that if you go out there with the other volunteers, there’s a good chance of a million things happening to you. You can’t even think of what the gamemakers would put into the streets of the Capitol. All you know is that it can’t be good.

They might as well throw in every single project that they’ve ever created since they won’t be able to use it against you all in the future. And in that case, you might not want to be in the streets of the Capitol after all.

Right when you leave the train station, there’s a giant dumpster waiting for the people leaving the tunnel. They’re forced to give up their weapons so that they can pass into the team of medics that are waiting. As you get closer, you’re able to see that there’s no struggle. Most give up their weapons without a fight, but some are a little hesitant to do so.

You and the camera crew pass by it easily, none of you are holding a significant weapon, and if you are, you’re all rebels anyway. They’re not worried about you guys turning on them, it’s more like the newly rebels that are just coming out of the tunnel.

Past all the disarming, is the group of medics that wait for everyone who makes it past the tunnel. It takes a bit for you and the camera crew to get through the dense crowd that only gets bigger. Just before you break the last line of people, you can hear the train’s horn, warning everyone that it’s coming.

Then, you get through.

Waiting on the other side of the crowd is Lyme, with a particularly impressed look on her face.

“Maybe we should have sent you in, initially.” Lyme says, “You did it effortlessly.”

“If any of you had bothered to tell me before sending Katniss in, I would have told you it was a bad idea.” You take a look behind you, “And by the way, this is a perfect example of what you should do when it comes to the Capitol citizens.”

“Want to be put in charge of that?” Lyme offers.

Your head whips towards her, “I will not play devil's advocate for them. That’s your fucking problem to sort.”

“It was just an offer.” Lyme says, but you’re already leaving towards the justice building again. Lyme’s quite taller than you, so it takes basically no effort when it comes to catching up with you, “While you were gone, Coin had someone flown in.”

You can’t help but let out a snort, “Oh, whoever should that be?”

After what you said to Coin, it’s no surprise to you. She would pull some bullshit like this to make you angry. It’s just her little form of payback.

“He’s waiting at your house.”

You look at her, “You had him escorted to my house?”

“He wouldn’t shut up about it. Gave him basic instructions to get to victor’s village, and then told him yours is the only one that hasn’t been touched.”

“Speaking of which, why is that?” you fix a curl that’s fallen into your face.

“Honestly, no clue.” Lyme says, “Good luck with Finnick.”

“Right.”

Lyme and the camera crew break off when you reach the justice building. From there, one single person brings you as far as they’re allowed to go into the town part of District Two, and then they head back to where they had been standing before you stumbled along.

You’re nearly home when your feet start to ache from the heels. And if it weren’t for the fact that the dirt is mixed in with glass, you might have taken the heels right off and walked barefoot the rest of the way. Before the rebellion, you definitely would have done that. Regardless of how people would feel about it.

Victor’s village still looks shitty, there’s not much to expect from it in the first place. It’s not like it’s going to have changed in the past hour or two. Although, you thought that you might find Finnick poking around in the abandoned, charcoal black houses.

Through the first arch and into the second reveals your perfect house. The door is shut--so it looks like Finnick knows his manners--and you don’t waste time going inside.

Swinging the door open, you make a point to slam it shut when you get inside. You don’t even move from the doorway before you’re tearing the heels off your feet, massaging them one at a time. Then, you head upstairs to your room.

If Finnick wants to speak, Finnick can come and find you. He invited himself to District Two, he was able to find your house, he’ll be able to find you.

Or rather, the other way around.

Finnick’s lounging on your bed when you walk in. In his hand he holds a book with your face on it. You can’t help but roll your eyes--that book was forced on you by Snow. He thought it was a good idea to draw in more attraction to you. And unfortunately it worked, and after that, you spent a couple more weeks than you were meant to, inside of the Capitol.

Of course, it ran short when everyone heard about your sour attitude, no matter what time of the day it was. People revoked their… reservations, and you were forced to go home.

“Welcome.” you say bitterly, opening the wardrobe doors and tossing your shoes inside, then you unzip the dress from the back with little to no problem.

“So the friendliness didn’t last long.” Finnick sounds amused, but when you turn to look over your shoulder, you can see that it’s not how he’s feeling. There’s a hint of a scowl on his face, maybe some touch of annoyance.

“Thank god.” you hang the dress up, then you close the wardrobe door and move onto the bathroom.

You tear off everything that you wouldn’t normally wear. The bracelets, earrings, rings. The only thing you leave is the necklace Tanith gave you, otherwise it’s all gone. And as soon as you get into the bathroom, it’s tossed into the jewelry drawer, which is absolute hellfire to sift through.

Finnick follows you to the bathroom, and watches as you remove the makeup, unphased by the fact that you’re half naked again, “Did you actually mean any of it?”

You pause for a moment, “Mean what? What I said to Johanna? Every word, she fucking asked for it. Antagonizing me and all that, she should have seen it coming.”

“The apology.” Finnick clarifies.

“I meant that, yes.” there’s no hesitation.

“That’s all I wanted to know.” he turns and leaves the bathroom.

“So now what?” you call, “You’re going back to District Thirteen?”

Finnick laughs, “Dream on.”

You roll your eyes, “It was worth a shot.”

“Your house smells like shit, by the way.”

“It’s the kitchen, feel free to clean it out if it bothers you that much. I just figured that this house would be blown to bits the second Snow gets a chance because of what I said.”

“Speaking of which.” Finnick comes back, he’s got some clothes for you hanging over his arm, “The front lines?”

You scowl at him a little bit, “Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to go through someone’s clothes? And yes, the front lines.”

Regardless, you pull on the shorts and shirt after tossing the makeup wipes away. You unpin your hair, letting it all fall into place unnaturally, which causes you to just pull it right back up into a ponytail anyway to keep it out of your face.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

You side-eye him, “Let me guess, you’re coming along?”

Finnick smiles, “You know me better than I thought.”

“No, you just have a thing for following me around, so I figured. Just like how Lyme didn’t even have to say your name, and I knew you came.” you grin a little, “How was the party, by the way?”

“Surprisingly boring without you there.”

“You’re saying that I’m entertainment?” you ask.

“The best.” Finnick smiles.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter fifteen

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theobsessor1 · 4 years

Text

A Silly Idea

summary: Deceit should know better, going through with another one of Remus’s ideas. He thought it would have been a one time deal, just something for them that night to experiment with his more reptilian side. But he’s starting to regret it with the growing nest of eggs, and horrible uncertainty of feelings swirling in his chest...he might be in some trouble here.

pairings: qp Demus, implied intrulogical

Warnings: implied eggpreg, implied mpreg, implied mpreg, (i dont go into detail about any of this)

Word count: 1959 (wish to support me buy me a coffee :3)

Chapter 1 of “Say Something” series

Deceit growls as he pops back into the subconscious. He could never understand those-those buffoons! He just wanted to help Thomas, just like any of them, refused to listen to him!

They were such idiots!

He sighs, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair, tossing it to the coffee table as he comes around and plops himself down on the couch with a huff.

Conjuring himself a glass of wine in one hand and summoning the television remote in the other. Planning to spend the rest of the evening mind-numbingly watching the tv and drinking wine till he passes out.

A perfect plan for his dreary mood. That is of course what he planned but not everything seems to want to go his way today. He surfs through the channels as movement in his peripheral catches his attention. A short flicker of his tongue snatching the faint scent of blood and some kind of soap confirms that Remus has appeared on the other side of the couch.

“HelloOoOo my fave pair of snitties!”

Deceit scrambles to not spill his glass as Remus drops onto him, burying his face into the snake sides chest all the while cackling and wrapping his arms around the other in a tight grip like an octopus entrapping its prey with its tentacles.

“Really now is that all you see me as Remus?” Deceit fakes an offended scuff “Just some over glorified snits for you to use as a pillow?” he tries to keep from smiling, lips twitching with a slight smirk as Remus giggles...or well his equivalent of giggling.

Remus takes a moment to settle, keeping his head resting on the other dark sides chest as he finds a comfortable position for his legs. He can hear the creative sides stim toy, the joints of it crackling slightly as he uses it, can feel the side glancing up at him as he takes a gulp of wine before returning attention back to the television. There’s a strange unnatural whining growl that comes from the duke “I could knock their skulls in! Ripp off their arms and feed them to dogs! Or just steal their kneecaps!” Remus makes a quick gesture of snatching something “They would have to listen to ya if they can’t escape!” Deceit lifts an eyebrow, shaking his head.

It’s the same thing almost every night, coming back frustrated and drowning his anger in alcohol, Remus threatening the proclaimed light sides...always the same.

Deceit gently shakes his head “Thank you Remus, but I must decline… They might listen to my words but they would not hear my meaning...They never do.”

Remus takes the time to think for a moment, eyes darting at all the channels Deceit is still scrolling through before he finally just settles on a nature documentary, seems the topic for the day is snakes.

“...You wanna talk about it?” he finally asks, offering up an ear to listen, and let him babble like Deceit would offer him. The snake side can hear him fidgeting more fervently with his stim toy, trying to keep quiet and allow him to vent. It’s a kind gesture, but Deceit was tired of venting.

Tired of it all.

He wanted change.

“What is there to talk about...Virgil fights against me, Patton is trying to do what he sees right, Roman is lost, Logan listens but follows the rest of the flock.” Deceit can’t help but sigh, he can’t fault them for how they act. Yes he gets angry at not being listened to, but they are only trying their best...even if their best isn’t the greatest...hell they have recently been ignoring one of their own!

Remus growls faintly, unhappy as he gives Deceit a tight squeeze. Mumbling to himself in the ways that would get one labeled as a madman.

Deceit hums chugging down the rest of his glass before willing it to refill, a smirk playing on his lips “Speaking of Logan, how are those secret adventures to his room going?” He attempts to change the subject with practice ease.

He holds in a snicker as Remus’s cheeks become dusted pink, the intrusive side hiding his face in the other’s chest. “I tried to gross him out again, try to spook em, ripping out my heart and dropping on the book he was reading. And the delicious nerd had the audacity to get excited and ask to dissect it!” he humbles into Deceit’s chest before looking up at his scaled face distraught and still blushing lightly “It was horrible!”

Deceit lets himself laugh this time, chuckling at Remus’s demise, “oh it sounds absolutely dreadful.”

Remus nods before hiding his face again, hips wiggling slightly with a frustrated shriek that causes Deceit’s ribs to seemingly feel like they were rattling, he merely runs his hand through the duke’s hair letting him scream it out.

It takes a few minutes for the side to finish, mumbling something about gross feelings, Deceit’s ears ring softly from it, but he doesn’t mind.

The room settles back into a comfortable silence for the moment, the only sounds being of the creative sides’s stim toy and the television’s narrator drowning on about the process of a female snake going through pregnancy.

“Dee-Dee can you lay eggs?” Deceit startles, giving a surprised blink, too used to sudden outbursts. Remus had quickly sat up, staring at him with wide mischievous eyes and large maniac smile on his face.

“Ree, if you hadn’t noticed, I’m male and that’s a female snake on screen. I highly doubt I could.” He replies almost fondly to the strange idea. He can see the other’s eyes flickering over his face as his thoughts raced. You could almost see them flashing through his eyes if you stared into them.

“But what if you could?” Would you eat it, cracking it open to slurp out the insides?”

Remus cackles bouncing slightly “Or-or maybe keep it around and let rot. Turning it into a festering ball of stink!”

The snake side couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose “As delightful as that all sounds, I don’t think I would do any of that. Though you’re welcome to do so with yourself.” He can’t help but raise an eyebrow as the side moves closer, breath smelling of his latest snack.

“Do it with me! Let’s make an egg!” Remus moves closer, softly knocking their foreheads together and shaking his head to nuzzle their noses against each other's. “I bet they would be massive! What do you think we would make, some mysterious mix of snake and octopus wriggling inside ready to devour souls hehe!”

Deceit can’t help roll his eyes, he loves Remus, but really he is not going to willy nilly and start making eggs with him. Remus probably didn’t even actually care about making eggs the sneaky bastard.

He gently pushes the Duke away “Remus-”

“Pleeeeeese Double Dee, just some egg making between two bros cause they gay!” ugh, well now how was he supposed to say no to that.

“Alright fine, I’ll sleep with you tonight-” Remus’s face had gone from pouty to instantly a wide smile that would unsettle anyone “But only once! And then we go to bed after.”

Remus lets out a dramatic groan as he climbs the back of the couch and flops onto the ground on the other side “Fiiiine, you’re no fun…”

“Oh yes, I’m such a party pooper aren’t I” Deceit drawls sarcastically before quickly downing his second glass of wine, disappearing the glass with a small poof before standing up and walking around the couch to his fallen friend “Really would think you’d be grateful, considering I’ve let you change my anatomy before~...” Remus had never let go of that one special snake fact he learned from Logan.

The creative side bolts up from the floor with the sound of bones popping “hmm I do so enjoy that little change~” he purrs towards Deceit, childishly wiggling his eyebrows before grabbing the snake sides hand to tug him off to his room.

One would be surprised by how clean the duke’s room actually was, save for the mystery stains of course. One could never be sure if its blood, paint, ketchup. Or many other things in the splattering of dark colors in the carpet.

Everything sat neatly in its place, bed against the back wall, with sheets semi neatly made, weapons rach against a side wall next to the closet and a desk on the other side of the room. Littered with papers with chaotic scrollings and detailed doodles all over them. A couple of shelves lined with Shelves sat over it, lined with grotesque clay figures, disfigured to missing limbs or pouting out guts.

Remus lets go of his hand to scramble onto the his bed, snapping away his clothes and summoning a bottle of lube on the bedside table. Looking to Deceit with eyes like a predatore ready to eat him alive.

Deceit can’t help but smile heatedly as he returned the look “So, where do you want me~”

******

Two weeks!

Two weeks after Remus’s silly idea!

He foolishly hadn’t thought he was serious about it but here was evidence on his bed that Remus had indeed changed up his anatomy somehow.

Two weeks of feeling strange. The first couple of days, just extreme hunger and then a complete loss of appetite the rest of the time. Feeling uncomfortable at all hours, only lessened when he was in his snake form.

He hadn’t understood why it had been happening at first, but with what sat on his bed in front of him...Well he can connect the dots. An egg on his bed, feeling tired and sore...he’s thankful he’s imaginary.

The egg was surprisingly aesthetically pleasing, going from a bright green-yellow color on top mixing and shifting into a dark olive green to the bottom. The egg was seemingly layered almost like a pinecone and large enough to take up Deceit’s whole hand… well it hadn’t been that size when he first laid it, thank Thomas.

It had only grown bigger a moment after...Would it keep getting bigger?

Deceit ran a gloveless hand through his hair, hardly any clothes on as he had just woken up for the day and, spending most of his time as a snake, he hadn’t needed them.

What was he supposed to do with it now? Remus hadn’t said anything after their night together about the eggs. He wouldn’t put it past the duke if he had forgotten, with that mind of his often racing so fast, jumping from idea to idea.

He could always just bring it to him and remind him of it...but for some reason that made his gut twist unhappily with this strange tightening feeling in his chest.

...He supposed making a nest for it wouldn’t hurt? It’s not like something would actually hatch from it right?... He hoped nothing did, anyway. Surely he wouldn’t be good for the child, if it hatched.

With another huff, he conjures up two large fluffy blankets and small throw pillows making a nicely sized nest in the corner of the room. It looked like a comfy sitting nook for reading, to disguise the fact that the egg was there.

It’s fine... It will be fine. He fed himself the lie, willing it to wash over him and calm his nerves. Tasting its bitter scent.

The snake side forces himself to turn away and get dressed for the day, he still has a job to do. He can figure out a better plan to deal with the egg later.

It was just one egg. No harm.

Everything was fine.

It’s fine.

#egg fic #Say Something #Demus #deceit sanders #remus sanders #sander sides #writing is hard #intrulogical

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